


Escape: Come Alive

by mckvch (RaiseYourVoice)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Badass Connor, Badass Markus, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Discrimination, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content (chapter 21), Falling In Love, First Kiss, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Masturbation in Shower, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Pacifist Markus, Panic Attacks, Playful Sex, Protective Markus, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, Writer Connor, mention of past sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-06-07 22:31:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 68,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiseYourVoice/pseuds/mckvch
Summary: “Alright, you’ve got a point there, I admit. Still, there’s something missing and I don’t know what it is,” the other man finally gave in, shoulders slumping while he took a sip of his own coffee. Hank absently flipped through the script after tugging it into his lap once more, eyes flickering over the markings and notes he had made during the first few times of reading the two latest chapters.“Maybe it really just lacks a romance,” Hank concluded and Connor felt like grimacing because he had hoped this wouldn’t come up.





	1. Writer's Struggle

**Author's Note:**

> I should stop with the habit of uploading stuff right away when I'm not even sure where I'm headed with it or if I'll even get it done but here we are anyway.

_ The leader of the revolution stood tall in front of his people after having climbed up onto the small wall surrounding the plaza where their latest peaceful protest had finally led to a small piece of freedom. They still had a long way to go until humans would finally accept that shapeshifters weren’t that different from them, that they were people as well, but at least this was a first step in the right direction. _

_ Several of their kind had lost their lives to this cause, to show humans that they were more than slaves and creatures to be looked down on—that they were living, breathing beings that deserve respect and acknowledgement—but it finally started looking like their death hadn’t been in vain. _

_ Markus tilted his head up into the cool breeze, glancing up at the waning moon and suppressing the urge to let his wolf-side take over and howl into the night. He would find other ways to celebrate their little victory and probably shift into his animal form later on to dash through the nightly forest—maybe Josh, Simon and North would join him. _

 

Connor tugged his glasses off his nose and rubbed his fingertips across his face before looking back at the screen of his laptop, frowning at the last paragraph. He had wanted to finish the chapter before going to sleep but this sounded pretty lame, in his opinion. A lot of people had commented on the first novel of the series with wishes about Markus and North getting together so Connor figured he should at least change the last part to his protagonist hoping to celebrate only with North but something just felt off about it.

He had never planned on adding a romantic interest for Markus anyway because every damn novel had some romantic side-plot and it would only take away from the main story. Besides, Connor would rather add a male love interest than a female one anyway, seeing as he was gay and didn’t care much for writing some heteronormative romance into his book. Besides, it just didn’t feel like North and Markus had a lot of chemistry—North had expressed some interest in their leader here and there but Markus had always been reserved towards her, much more open and relaxed with everyone but her.

Connor had no clue why people had chosen to ship these two, really, but maybe it was also for lack of other options? Sure, a few seemed to think Markus and Simon or Markus and Josh could be sweet together but none of it actually felt right to Connor. Which was mildly annoying because he actually wanted someone for his protagonist since Markus had gone through so much abuse and trauma, he deserved love and happiness, but he had yet to come up with a character that felt  _ right _ .

Or maybe he was just a crappy writer, unable to come up with a good enough romance plot and making up excuses to not admit to his own ineptitude. Connor liked to think that wasn’t the case but started to wonder if the lack of romance in his own life might have anything to do with it.

“Alright, time for bed before this becomes even more of a farce,” he decided with a sigh, shutting off his laptop before getting up to stretch a little. 

Writing was more exhausting than people gave it credit. The frustration of finding the right words and stringing them together in a way that sounded and felt pleasant could be pretty overwhelming at times and managed to get to him quite a lot on nights like this one. When Connor wanted to write but the words just wouldn’t come. When he stared at the screen with a blankness in his head that left him angry and disappointed with his own abilities.

Writing was the one thing he was good at, the one thing he loved and during the days when not even writing worked out, he felt like he just failed himself. It was stupid and nonsensical but not being able to write was like an itch he simply couldn’t scratch—it could drive you up the walls.

After everything was turned off, Connor went into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth, washing his face in a vain attempt to clear his jumbled mind before heading straight to bed. He slumped onto the soft mattress, sighed at the ceiling and once again told himself that the next day would be filled with motivation and, more importantly, inspiration. He could do this. He could finish the second book of the series and make it a good addition, not just the lousy attempt to give the people what they wished for.

Connor huffed, curled up on his side and tucked the blanket over his head while squeezing his eyes shut, willing himself to fall asleep. It still took him at least two hours to succumb to a restless but dream-free sleep.

*******

“You know I love your writing but this is kind of lame. It’s such a good follow up and I love the whole scene of the final protest. It’s really impressive to read about Markus’ inner struggle, how he wants to give in and fight back and not watch his people die anymore. It’s such a strong scene and then you choose to resolve it by letting him and the others sing? That’s simply not realistic,” Hank pointed out during their meeting to discuss Connor’s latest two chapters.

Sometimes Connor hated his manager for being so brutally honest. Hank was like a father to him and it was always very helpful that he didn’t try to sugarcoat things but sometimes Connor wished the other would at least try to lie a little bit when he thought he wrote shit.

“What would you suggest? Try to picture the scene: they’re cornered by the police, backed up against that burnt out wreck of a bus, and Markus is convinced everything is over. He refuses to attack because that’s no solution and wouldn’t make them any better than the humans. So he picks to sing that song in a way to bid farewell,” Connor tried to explain and he was actually kind of proud of that scene.

He had imagined how it went down. How Markus, expression determined and unwavering despite knowing the end had finally come, stepped forward and just started singing with his smooth, strong voice. And the others started joining him one by one, stunning the human soldiers into silence and leaving everyone listening with goosebumps. Connor had this whole scene in his head, could even hear the song in his mind, and now there was Hank telling him it was a  _ lame _ solution to finally make the humans see sense?

“It was never supposed to be this big battle like other stories do. Markus isn’t a soldier or a cruel man—he stands in for his rights and doesn’t back down but he won’t revert to violence for that,” Connor explained, pushing his fingers through his hair and frowning at the script sitting between them on the table. “Also, it’s a fantasy novel, there are shapeshifters, what about any of that screams  _ realism _ to you?”

“Look, kiddo, I’m just being honest with you here. I know you don’t like being told when something isn’t as good as it could be but I’m only trying to help.”

Connor pressed his lips into a thin line an narrowed his eyes before grabbing his cup to take a long drag of the almost-too-cold coffee. Hank was right but he refused to admit that out loud.

“How about a kiss? A lot of people would like him with North and it might be cheesy but people love that shit. Have them kiss and keep the outcome,” Hank added after a beat of silence and now Connor couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“First, Markus has  _ never _ in any way shown interest in her. It would be completely off for him to kiss her now. Second, that’s definitely more ridiculous than singing. Why would a kiss convince the humans to let them be free and accept them as beings that deserve rights? Kissing doesn’t prove anything. It doesn’t prove they have feelings. It’s just two mouths pressed together, everyone can do that. A robot could imitate that.”

He could see Hank was getting a little frustrated with him as well now but Connor didn’t care. This suggestion was beyond stupid!

“Markus is an artist, he paints and plays the piano. Singing is so much more fitting and it’s impossible to pretend to sing with feeling. Either the singing is alive or it isn’t. Singing without a soul doesn’t touch anyone’s heart,” he added and pushed his bottom lip out, defiantly starting back at the man who had been with him on this career path from the very beginning. He loved Hank, he really did, but this man sometimes lacked a certain sense for situations and what made people tick.

Hank was a great manager but he wasn’t always big on the whole empathy thing.

“Alright, you’ve got a point there, I admit. Still, there’s something missing and I don’t know what it is,” the other man finally gave in, shoulders slumping while he took a sip of his own coffee. Hank absently flipped through the script after tugging it into his lap once more, eyes flickering over the markings and notes he had made during the first few times of reading the two latest chapters.

“Maybe it really just lacks a romance,” Hank concluded and Connor felt like grimacing because he had hoped this wouldn’t come up.

“Not every book needs romance and I’m not going to let him get with North. I don’t care that a lot of people want that—I just don’t feel it and I refuse to write something I don’t feel to be right.”

“Then add some guy for him to fall in love with.”

“You say that as if it’s so simple to just add another character and pair them up. That’s not how it works,” Connor muttered and massaged the bridge of his nose after pushing his glasses out of the way. He was feeling the beginning of a headache pulsing behind his temples.

“I know. Just...try to figure something out anyway? People love your writing and they love your tortured hero but I’m sure they’ll love it even more with some romance on the horizon,” Hank added, now smiling encouragingly at him and Connor felt his shoulders slump in defeat.

It wasn’t even like he didn’t want to add that aspect, it just hadn’t happened yet. Sure, he was the author and everything but while writing, the story and characters tended to develop a life of their own and he couldn’t always influence what some spur of the moment typing rush ended up producing. He doubted anyone who never experienced writing properly could understand that notion, though.

“I’ll try,” he promised with a small smile and finished the last sip of his now uncomfortably cold coffee, grimacing at the disgusting taste of it. “And now I’ll have to head back because I’m slightly behind schedule already. Thanks for your input and wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck, kiddo, you have the talent for this,” Hank replied with a fond smile and got up from his chair at the same time as Connor did to pull him into a bear-hug before they parted ways again.

*******

It had been a while since the last time Connor had entered a bookstore and this little shack was definitely one of the weirder variety. There seemed to be no other customer around, not even someone behind the cash register and neither the bell above the door nor him calling out into the dusty little shop had gotten any kind of reaction. He was this close to just leaving again but somehow curiosity got the better of him and Connor had walked further into the store.

The books on the shelves all looked really old and he even spotted a shelf with notepads and pens at the back of the small store but decided to take a look at that one later. Connor’s fingertips carefully brushed along a few books, coming away dusty and he frowned a little because these books were not taken care of properly. People generally seemed to neglect books nowadays that most of them used ebooks and when Connor had published the first novel of his current series, he had been asked if he even wanted a print version since it was ‘outdated’ and most people preferred to just download books to whatever device they owned.

Connor owned a tablet and had downloaded ebooks as well but he still preferred books, bought the print copy whenever he really enjoyed a story because it just felt better to have a physical object, to really own the book and not just some data on a device.

He grabbed one of the books at random, carefully flipping it open and frowning because it was written in a language he had never seen before. He couldn't even place where it might be from or what other languages it might have ties to. Connor’s eyes flickered across the page with a frown before he closed the book and pushed it back into the gap it had left in the shelf, reaching for another one further up with the same result.

Connor gave up trying to find anything readable after two more books and strolled over to the shelf with the writing supplies, running his fingers across the spine of some old looking notebooks before picking a small, leather-bound one that somehow caught his attention. The notebook looked old from the outside, the leather a little cracked and rough, but the pages were pearly white and perfectly new, unused. For some reason, he had at least expected to spot a coffee stain somewhere but Connor realised that was kind of stupid.

“Are you a  writer? I would recommend this pen to go along with the notebook,” a voice suddenly spoke to him out of nowhere and Connor almost dropped the notebook in shock, whirling around with wide eyes only to almost bump into a wrinkly old man with thick glasses and a hunched back.

“You almost gave me a heart attack, sir,” he pointed out breathlessly, free hand pressed against his chest where he could feel his racing heartbeat and Connor wondered how this old man had managed to sneak up to him like this—when he had walked through the store, every second step was accompanied by the creaking of a floorboard underneath the brownish layer of carpet.

“Nonsense, young man, you’re perfectly healthy,” the man dismissed and slowly walked along the shelf, bony fingers hovering along the variety of pens lined up next to the notebooks until he picked a plain looking one with dark blue and a few golden lines adorning it. “How about this one?”

“Well, I am an author, that’s correct, but I write on my laptop,” Connor pointed out, hoping he wouldn’t insult this guy with his words even though that was a little bit ridiculous.

“I figured that much already,” the old man replied easily, turning back around with the pen in hand, “all of you young people do. But you should use it to take notes in the  _ note _ book. I always find it easier to come up with ideas when I jot them down right away. You can keep the notebook in the pocket of your coat and write down whenever you see something inspiring. This notebook will help your story come to life.”

Connor glanced at the notebook and then at the pen that was held out to him, frowning a little. He didn’t need any of this. Whenever he was out of the house and an idea struck him, he typed it into his phone and that did just as good as a job as a notebook would. Maybe a better job, even, since the chance of losing a phone was quite a lot slimmer than that of losing a tiny notebook.

“I usually use my phone to write down notes,” Connor admitted carefully, not even knowing why he felt kind of bad about rejecting the man’s idea but he really didn't need this and he also didn’t think there was much of a difference between writing notes in his phone or on paper. Well, maybe the difference as that his digital notes were still readable after weeks while he sometimes couldn’t decipher his own writing after such a period of time when he had jotted something down in a hurry. So, really, no handwriting was the better way to go in his case.

“Believe me, this is no ordinary notebook or pen. Try it. If you’re not satisfied, you’ll get a  full refund,” the old man said and Connor really started to wonder about all of this. What was going on with this guy and his odd little bookstore? A full refund if he wasn’t satisfied it's something as simple as a notebook and a pen? He should have taken this as his cue to leave but instead, Connor sighed and shrugged.

“Alright.”

“You only have to stick to two rules—always write the title of your work first and you’re the only one allowed to use it.”

If that wasn’t ominous, he honestly didn’t know what was.

“It’s just a notebook,” Connor pointed out, barely holding back a nervous chuckle because this old man was starting to creep him out.

The young author quickly agreed to the two rules and bought both items that weren’t even that expensive, to begin with. Connor took a deep breath when he finally got away from the unsettling atmosphere of the little store and he couldn't wait to get back home and work on his book rather than waste time with nonsense like buying a notebook he would probably never use.

For some unknown reason, while he was eating dinner the next evening and pouring over ideas for a romance plot in his head, Connor reached for the damn notebook anyway. For the notebook and the pen. He put the pen against the paper, just so remembering to store owners words about writing the story title down first and despite rolling his eyes at that nonsense, Connor still gave in and wrote the name of his series onto the first page of the small leather-bound notebook.

**Escape: Come Alive**

The first thing he jotted down underneath was a simple “possible love-interest for Markus” and since he had no idea who that might be so far, Connor put the pen and notebook aside again, eating his dinner while trying to come up with  _ anything _ but forcing ideas was just not possible. 

In the end, Connor went to sleep that night feeling like he was failing his own storyline but at least he fell asleep rather quickly. Too quickly to catch the soft bluish glow emitted by the little, leather-bound notebook sitting on his desk.


	2. The Giraffe in the Room

Sleeping in an uncomfortable position and then waking up with pain somewhere in one’s body—usually neck or back—was surely nothing new to anyone. Connor had made that experience more than once but this time really took the cake. He groaned and wanted to roll onto his side, absently wondering why his bed was so incredibly uncomfortable all of a sudden, but something poking him in the ribs stopped his movement and cause him to flinch.

“Stop sleeping in our garden!” An unfamiliar voice called out and he was poked in the side again.

The fact that someone else was here and the words caused Connor to fluttery open his eyes, view still blurry from sleep for a moment until he could see a frowny face staring down at him with two different coloured eyes—one a clear blue and the other seafoam green.

“What are you doing in my bedroom?” Connor mumbled, still not quite connecting what the hell was even going on and he was probably still asleep and having a silly dream anyway.

The man with the bi-coloured eyes raised his eyebrows at his statement and crossed his arms in front of his chest now. “I have no idea how drunk you were to mistake our front lawn for your bedroom but I’m quite certain this is not, in fact, your bedroom.”

“I wasn't drunk. I don’t drink,” Connor replied and finally got his body to move enough to push himself into a sitting position, hissing a little when he felt a sharp pain on his left cheek.

“Sure, you were sober when you decided to lie down in one of our rose bushes,” the man commented dryly but offered a hand to Connor anyway.

The author eyed the offered hand warily but then reached out to take it, allowing the man’s warm and surprisingly strong grasp to pull him to his feet. Connor reached out to touch his cheek, fingertips coming away with a small droplet of blood and looking to the spot where he had been lying, it was indeed a patch of grass right next to a thorny rose bush that was probably responsible for scratching up his cheek.

“I have no idea how I got here. I went to sleep in my bed at home last night,” he muttered, more to himself than to the frowny stranger.

“You certainly don’t smell like booze or any other substance, for that matter. And you’re just a regular person, huh?” The guy now said and Connor wondered if the man knew how kind of creepy these words sounded. Who said something like that?

“A regular person? What is that supposed to mean? And how would you be able to tell what I smell like from standing a few feet away from me?”

The young man frowned some more and tilted his head, nostrils flaring the smallest bit and Connor felt like he should probably just walk away from this possibly crazy person. Something definitely wasn’t right here—something other than the fact of him waking up in a rose bush instead of his bed that he had fallen asleep in the night before.

“Come on, let’s go inside and I’ll take a look at those scratches,” the guy said, completely ignoring Connor’s questions and pointing towards the rustic looking house that resembled more of a villa than a normal house while also copying the look of a farmhouse instead of some fancy, modern built.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Connor dismissed the offer because he would probably get murdered by this weird guy if he dared to set a foot into the house and he’d rather stay alive for a little longer. Before the man was able to respond to his answer, there was the ringing of a bike bell approaching from the street and distracted both of the young men.

“We don’t want a disgusting monster like you in our neighbourhood!” The kid on the bike—it was maybe ten or eleven—called out and then actually threw something at the other man. Connor expected the balloon to be filled with water but when it managed to hit the guy’s chest, it exploded into a cloud of white. Flour.

“What the hell was that?” Connor breathed, too perplexed and still trying to process what he had just witnessed while the kid was already leaving their line of sight. He glanced at the other young man who brushed some of the flour off his clothes with the air of a person who was used to such treatment, no anger or sadness in his expression, just blank resignation.

“Just one of the neighbours’ kids,” the man said matter-of-factly and without batting an eyelash as if this occurrence was entirely normal and Connor felt a pang of sympathy for this guy because nobody deserved this kind of treatment.

“Well, these people should teach their kids some human decency, then,” Connor huffed and even though he had thought of the stranger as some creepy weirdo only seconds ago, he was still angry to see someone being treated this way for no apparent reason. Even with a reason, it was still horrible to treat another person this way!

“Like not sleeping in other people’s front yard, for example?” The other man inquired but now there was a teasing note to his voice, his lips twitching the slightest bit when Connor narrowed his eyes at him.

“I told you, I was at home in my bed last night. I have no idea how I got here,” the young author replied and he did feel anxious about this fact because it made absolutely no sense. How had he ended up in an area he didn’t know, in front of a stranger’s house? This didn’t even look like Detroit.

“I am still in Detroit, though, right?” At this point, he wouldn’t even be too surprised if he had also ended up in another city. How that would be possible, he had no idea, but the same applied to wake up in other people’s rose bushes.

“You didn’t drink and, let me guess, you’re not known to be sleepwalking either?” The guy now asked, having an almost worried look in his heterochromatic eyes now as well.

“Even if I did sleepwalk—which I don’t, to my knowledge—this would be pretty extreme. I don’t know this area at all so I doubt it’s anywhere close to my home,” Connor replied and was about to rub his fingers over his cheek but hisses softly in pain because he had momentarily forgotten about the stupid scratches.

“I agree, that doesn’t sound logical. But for now, let’s go inside and let me take a look at those scratches. Believe me, it would not be fun if those got infected,” the man said and reached out, almost grabbing Connor’s upper arm but then thinking better of it, dropping his hand again and nodding towards the house instead.

He looked at the other man for a moment, his heterochromatic eyes and unexpectedly soft expression that hiding behind the initially distrustful exterior. Maybe this had something to do with this kid earlier and apparently, other people treating him shitty as well—Connor wouldn’t trust new people if he was being treated that way by other.

“Alright,” he finally agreed and followed the other man towards the house, stopping in front of the front door while the other was unlocking it. “So, I guess it would make sense to at least know each other’s name when you’re already letting me into your home to patch me up? I’m Connor.”

The other unlocked the door and glanced over his shoulder, pushing the door open and motioning for Connor to step inside first. “My name is Markus.”

It seemed quite ironic that this guy had the same first name as the protagonist of his novel and Connor almost snorted in amusement but he didn’t want to be perceived as even more of a weirdo.

When Connor entered the lobby of the house, he noticed that it was even bigger than he had initially thought and he glanced up the impressive staircase that was curving upwards from the right side of the lobby. To the left and ahead were two big wooden double doors leading to other rooms while next to a dresser with a mirror was a birdcage with two chirping canaries inside.

“Through here,” Markus said while walking up to the double door ahead, both sides sliding apart as he stepped closer and Connor made a small impressed noise. Markus was probably pretty wealthy if he could afford this kind of technology. Instead of dwelling on that thought, Connor followed the other man into a quite large study where he sat down in a comfy leather armchair when Markus motioned for him to take a seat.

“I’ll be right back.” With that, Markus left the room again and Connor just sat there, glancing around curiously. When he tilted his head back, he spotted the skeleton of some marine creature hanging from the ceiling and upon entering the room it had been impossible to miss the giraffe in the room—maybe that should be made into a new saying instead of always going for the poor elephants.

It didn’t take too long for Markus to return with a small first aid kit in hand and he had also changed into a flour-free shirt that fit almost unfairly snug against his upper arms and chest, showing off how well-toned he was. Connor almost got a little distracted by the sight but just so managed to keep himself from staring.

“This will sting a little but the scratches should be fine after being disinfected as long as you keep your fingers away from them,” Markus announced, setting the first aid kit down on a small table next to the armchair Connor was sitting in, rummaging around in the little box until he found the antiseptic and a piece of fabric to pour some of the clear liquid on.

Connor wondered why Markus was even helping him, after his initially rather negative reaction, but he honestly couldn’t be bothered too much by being taken off by an admittedly very good-looking young man. He’d be stupid to complain about it, actually. Connor tilted his head a little to offer his scratched up cheek to the other man and, for a moment, almost forgot how to breathe when warm, slightly rough fingers curled around his chin.

He swallowed, heart skipping an unreasonable beat upon the realisation of how close they suddenly were and Connor felt pretty damn ridiculous about his reactions. Yes, Markus was gorgeous and it had been a while since he had a gorgeous guy in his personal space but that was no reason to feel like a stupid teenager with a crush all of a sudden.

Connor winced a little when the piece of fabric brushed against his skin for the first time, the scratches immediately stinging a little from the disinfectant but Markus’ fingers easily managed to prevent him from flinching away, gently pressing a little more against the curve of his jaw.

The whole time, Connor was just staring off into the room, figuring it was better to now acknowledge Markus’ face so close to his own but then his traitorous eyes flickered to the other man anyway and he wondered if it would be legitimate to sue someone for being too attractive.

Not only were the other’s heterochromatic eyes surrounded by dark, thick eyelashes but from close up, Connor could even see that Markus’ cheeks and the bridge of his nose were scattered with small freckles and for some reason that was incredibly cute and oddly sexy at the same time. He should have run into this Markus before writing his book so he could have added such details to his protagonist—though the heterochromatic eyes probably would have been a little too much and too out of the ordinary. But, ironically enough, ‘his’ Markus had greenish-blue eyes so it was still scarily close.

“There, all done,” Markus announced and his lips even quirked into the hint of a friendly smile that caused Connor’s heart to trip a little bit in its rhythm. He only managed a muttered “Thank you” in return, feeling unusually awkward all of a sudden but he still managed to mirror the other man’s smile.

“I guess I should get going now. After I figured out how to get home from here,” Connor decided, only now realising that while he was apparently still in Detroit, he had no idea which part of the city and how far from his home he actually was.

“Come on, I start up my laptop and you can look it up. Can’t just have you stumbling around the neighbourhood and end up in the next rosebush,” Markus replied teasingly and while he had been tense and rather closed off at first, he seemed to have warmed up to Connor the slightest bit which was nice, albeit unhealthy for the young author’s heart that was acting funny while face with Markus’ unexpected playfulness.

“I don’t want to cause you any more trouble.”

“I dragged you out of a rosebush and patched you up, I think I’ll survive to let you use my laptop,” Markus huffed while packing up the first aid kit and motioning for Connor to follow him back into the lobby and up the big staircase.

“Do you live here all by yourself?” Connor heard himself ask before he noticed the curious question was sitting at the tip of his tongue, unable to keep it from tumbling out of his mouth. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Markus turned around a little while he continued walking up the stairs, raising his eyebrows at Connor and somehow managing to keep his balance. Of course, he wasn’t a clumsy oaf like Connor. “While I’m flattered that you think I could afford such a place but, no, it's my father’s house and we both live here.”

The way Markus pronounced _father_ somehow told Connor that there was more of a story here but he refused to ask about it, that would be too far and absolutely none of his business. It was still obvious from the tone of Markus’ voice that his father meant a whole lot to him and that made Connor smile.

“Pretty sure you can’t always tell by people’s looks what they can and can’t afford,” Connor pointed out and almost stumbled over the last step at the top of the staircase because he got briefly distracted by the sight of Markus’ broad shoulders and back muscles moving underneath his shirt.

“That’s true. I definitely can’t tell with you,” the other man replied while opening the door to a room that opened into what looked like a small guest bathroom rather than the main bathroom. Markus discarded the first aid kit in a small cupboard there before stepping into the hallway again, his heterochromatic eyes flickering up and down Connor’s body like an afterthought to his statement.

Connor frowned a little, not too sure if this was supposed to be an insult or not, before glancing down his body as well. He honestly hadn’t realised he was walking around in sweatpants, a shirt with a sleeping cartoon red panda underneath the text _to do list:_ ☑ _nothing_. At least he was wearing slippers and wasn’t walking around in socks or even barefoot. Still, how Markus hadn’t just burst out laughing the moment he saw Connor was beyond him. He looked ridiculous. He didn’t even want to know the state of his hair and could only thank whatever higher power had decided to let him take his glasses with him.

“I really have no explanation for what’s going on but this is not at all how I usually leave the house, I swear,” Connor said and he felt his cheeks heat up, embarrassed by the extent of this mess while Markus stood in front of him all gorgeous and perfectly dressed, despite his outfit being casual. He couldn’t remember ever failing the first impression this much.

“Yeah, I figured as much and don’t worry, it could probably be worse. At least you’re dressed and the shirt is kind of adorable,” Markus commented, now smirking before he turned around to walk towards the next door in the hallway.

Connor only started after the other man for a moment, his cheeks flushing even more at the horrible thought that he could have ended up here only half dressed or not at all. He would have _died_ of embarrassment if that had happened!

“Are you coming?”

Connor shook his head and entered the room Markus had disappeared in, glancing around what was obviously the other man’s bedroom and of course the room was spacious, tidy and there was a huge bed at the centre of it.

“There you go,” Markus said from the desk near a large window, standing up and revealing his laptop where he had already opened up google maps for Connor to use and find his way home.

He definitely wanted to get back home as fast as possible, this had been enough embarrassment for one day and Connor probably wouldn’t leave the house again for at least a few days after this. He murmured another _thanks_ and chose to sit down in the leather chair in front of the desk, typing in his home address and then frowning at the screen when he saw where the marker ended up.

“That’s not right.”

“What is?” Markus asked and Connor could feel the other man right next to him but the sight on the screen was far too distracting to pay much attention to his personal space almost being invaded for the second time.

“That’s my address but that’s not where that is,” Connor said and the map looked quite similar to the area he lived in but it definitely wasn’t the same. He checked the address again but he hadn’t misspelt it, no typo, the city was correct as well. This made absolutely no sense at all and it was really starting to freak him out.


	3. Wrong Detroit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter but it simply didn't feel like I should add more to it and there are more than enough others to come. As you may have noticed, I updated the chapter count and while that might still change, it's at least a rough estimation of how long this story will probably be.
> 
> I'm crap at planning stories properly and usually just write whatever comes to mind without knowing ahead of time what will happen next so don't hold me to the chapter count *laughs*

“Maybe you hit your head?” Markus suggested after Connor had mentioned for the fifth time that this map was not the Detroit he knew, very well aware of the fact that he sounded crazy but he was starting to feel quite freaked out now so sounding insane was the least of his worries.

“My head feels fine, thank you very much,” he groused, starting to get annoyed despite knowing that the other’s question wasn’t meant to be patronising but came from a place of confusion and worry.

Connor startled a little when he suddenly felt gentle fingers touching the back of his head, pushing into his messy curls to touch his scalp. He rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to swat at Markus’ hand who was way too touchy-feely all of a sudden, considering they were still strangers but his treacherous heart honestly didn’t even mind the closeness. It felt nice, soothing, how the other’s fingers softly moved along the back of his head while checking for possible injuries.

“Seems fine to me,” Markus muttered and now Connor did huff out an annoyed breath because he had already said so.

“I told you my head is fine,” he grumbled in return and now that Markus was done checking his head, fingers still lingering against his scalp for some reason, he did give in to the earlier urge to swat the other man’s hands away. Markus made a small noise of surprise but quickly drew his hands back with a muttered apology, looking unexpectedly sheepish when Connor glanced up at him.

“Maybe this is some kind of parallel universe,” Connor heard himself say jokingly and shook his head at his own words, lips tugging into a faint grin when he heard Markus snort in return.

“Sure. If you actually believe that, you might really be crazy,” the other man pointed out before he suddenly went oddly silent, causing Connor to turn around eye him suspiciously. “Or maybe not.”

“What are you trying to say? That I’m actually in another universe? Who’s the crazy one now?” Connor chuckled and pushed his glasses up since they had slipped down the bridge of his nose. He had no clue what was going on but _that_ was definitely a nonsensical explanation.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say, actually,” Markus stated after another beat of silence and walked over to the huge bed, slumping down on the corner of it while he watched Connor spin around with his chair, eyeing him warily.

“There is absolutely nothing funny about this damn situation so stop messing with me. I have no idea how I got here and what is going on so if you don’t have anything sane to contribute, I’ll be on my way now.” Connor pushed out of the chair after shutting the laptop and he really wasn’t in the mood to be made fun of or taken for a fool. He was aware that this was all very questionable but that didn’t mean he had to accept being treated like an idiot.

“I’m not messing with you,” Markus’ voice followed him to the door and when he curled his fingers around the door handle, a hand pressed up against the wood of the door to keep him from opening it. “I’ve never heard of it actually being possible but I don’t think it’s entirely impossible either.”

“Right…” Connor looked over his shoulder and ignored the small skip in his heartbeat upon becoming aware that Markus was _right there_. He would only have to lean back a few inches and his back would be pressed against the other’s broad chest but this was the most inappropriate situation to be thinking about stuff like that, Connor reminded himself.

“Before you call me crazy and run off to stumble about in the streets, please sit down again and let’s try something,” Markus prompted, his voice suddenly careful and gentle as if he was talking to an animal that he didn’t want to startle.

Connor narrowed his eyes but something in Markus’ expression and the sound of his voice caused his shoulders to slump and he gave in without any kind of protest and a muttered “Alright”.

Markus’ strong hands gently grabbed Connor’s shoulders now to turn him around and steer him towards the bed, softly forcing him to sit down before he grabbed his laptop from the desk to then join Connor. The mattress dipped when Markus sat down, close enough for their knees to brush. Connor watched as the other man placed the laptop on his thighs, opening the device again and opening up the browser once more.

“I’m sure you have some kind of social media? Or anything else we could look for?”

Connor frowned at this odd question but, for some reason, decided to not question it and play along for a moment.

“I do have social media, yes, but since I’m an author with a few published novels, you would also be able to find those by just typing in my name,” he pointed out and before Markus could ask, he tugged the laptop closer so it was balancing on both their laps when he typed in his name in search bar.

**_Connor Avery_ **

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline at the results the search engine spit out a split second later and this definitely wasn’t what usually popped up—like every other person, he sometimes gave in to the curiosity to google himself and see what showed up in the top results so he knew this was vastly different from what would usually show up.     

> **Connor Avery Profiles | Facebook**  
>  _View the profiles of people named Connor Avery. Join Facebook to connect with Connor Avery and others you may know. Facebook gives people the power to..._
> 
> **Connor Avery - Senior Business Analyst - Janus Capital Group ...**  
>  _View Connor Avery's full profile. It's free! Your colleagues, classmates, and 500 million other professionals are on LinkedIn. View Connor's Full Profile ..._
> 
> **10+ Connor Avery profiles | LinkedIn**  
>  _View the profiles of professionals named Connor Avery on LinkedIn. There are 10+ professionals named Connor Avery, who use LinkedIn to exchange …_

“Judging by your expression, neither of these are yours?” Markus asked and Connor pressed his lips into a thin line before adding something to the search, refusing to give up that easily. Maybe the algorithm was messed up or Markus had some strange settings in his browser that caused this to happen.

**_Connor Avery author_**     

> **Official Site of Chelsea Field | Author of Humorous Mysteries**  
>  _Author of feel-good, fast-paced humorous mysteries with a generous dash of romance. ... Isobel Avery(Izzy) is about to start her new job, but faced with a secret ... But her greatest challenge will be helping Connor face the demons of his past._
> 
> **The Hunger Pains | Chelsea Field | Author of Humorous Mysteries**  
>  _Isobel Avery is on her second assignment as an undercover poison taster for Los ... Die, join Izzy as she learns where she stands with the enigmatic Connor and ..._
> 
> **Amazon.com: Katy Connor: Books, Biography, Blog, Audiobooks, Kindle**  
>  _Katy Connor is the thirty-something author of the 50 Shades of Grey's Anatomy series and has a serious addiction to her iPhone. When she's not checking social ..._

“What is this nonsense?!” Connor muttered under his breath and tried a few different searches, adding quotation marks to his name, but nothing led to any of his books, his social media accounts or the few articles he knew had been written about him. It was like he didn’t even exist and Connor felt his heart starting to speed up with upcoming panic. _This could not be real_!

“So, to get back to the nonsensical theory of a parallel—”

“No!” Connor almost flinched at the volume of his own voice but he pushed the laptop back at Markus and angrily jumped off the bed, glaring at the other man because he would not play along with such bullshit. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this! It made absolutely no sense that he suddenly didn’t even seem to exist.

“Connor, please,” Markus tried but he didn’t pause to wait what the other man had to say, rushing for the door and slamming it open before Markus would be able to stop him again.

Connor just wanted to get out of this damn house and figure out what the hell was going. He had to get home! He should call Hank, his manager would know what to do and help him figure this mess out.

In his haste to get downstairs again, Connor lost his footing on the stars, felt his foot slip off and his heart stopped for a beat but instead of falling head first down the large staircase, there was suddenly a warm hand grabbing his wrist. Connor made a pained noise in the back of his throat when he was suddenly yanked back and spun around, his back crashing into the wall to the side of the staircase. The air was knocked out of his lungs with a gasp and he stared at Markus who was looking back at him with wide eyes as well.

“Don’t touch me!” Connor wanted to push the other man away, realising how much his hands were shaking when he pressed them against Markus’ broad chest. The other man didn’t budge in the least, no matter how much Connor pushed against him, softly gasping for air and blinking away the sudden blurriness that started creeping into his view.

“Connor, stop! You have to calm down.” Markus’ voice sounded oddly far away despite the other man being right in front of him and Connor still pushed against the other’s chest, fully aware that he barely managed to put any strength into the action anymore, his arms and whole body trembling by now.

“You’re having a panic attack,” Markus said with his muffled voice and Connor absently felt the other’s fingertips digging into his upper arms while he desperately tried to get air back into his lungs but it felt like his throat was about to close up. Markus was just a blurry figure in front of him at this point and Connor barely registered the wheezing sounds escaping his own mouth while his struggle against the other man’s hold was slowly dying down. “I know this is scary and nothing makes any sense but let me help you, please. You have to try to calm down.”

Connor shook his head, even as one of Markus’ hands left his upper arm and came to rest on one of the author’s own hands that were still pressed up against the other man’s chest. He barely understood Markus’ next words that sounded something like “Focus on my breathing” as he pressed Connor’s hand more against his slowly rising and falling chest. He felt the distant thumping of another heartbeat against his palm while his own was hammering in his chest as if it was trying to break through his ribs.

*******

Connor groaned softly when he felt something cold and wet against his forehead. It took him at least four attempts to finally manage to open his eyes and he felt incredibly tired as if he hadn’t slept for at least two nights in a row.

“Take it slow.”

He had heard this voice before but Connor couldn’t quite match it to a person right away. His head was throbbing and he closed his eyes again, reaching up to touch the wet piece of cloth currently pressed against his forehead. His fingertips brushed against the cool cloth before touching warm skin—the unexpected sensation made him jerk his hand back and his eyes opened again.

“Where am I?” He mumbled groggily because he was very sure the ceiling didn’t belong to his own place. Connor frowned and tilted his head to the side. His view was still a little unfocused but his breath hitched and his chest tightened at the sight of none other than Markus hovering next to him. The other man was sitting on the corner of the bed Connor was currently lying in, one hand keeping the wet cloth pressed against the young author’s head and expression pinched together in worry.

“You passed out,” Markus informed him matter-of-factly, skipping the answer to Connor’s question right away because his presence made that one pretty damn obvious.

“I’m still here,” Connor rasped, some panic seeping back into his voice and he was about to sit up but Markus’ second hand reached out to rest against his chest, easily pinning him down and refusing him to move.

“Yes, you are, and you’re not going anywhere until you calmed down. I promise you that I will help you figure this out but, for now, you need to rest and try to not freak out again.” Markus’ heterochromatic eyes stared down at him with determination and his fingertips gently dug into Connor’s chest for a second before the pressure disappeared again and he only felt the light touch of Markus’ hand still resting in the middle of his chest, warmth seeping through the material of his shirt.

“Easier said than done,” Connor muttered but he still tried to even out his breathing and to calm down his once more racing heartbeat. He felt dizzy and nauseous but didn’t make another attempt at sitting up or struggling against Markus, mostly because it had been made very clear that he didn’t stand a chance against the other man anyway.

“I don’t understand any of this.” His voice sounded kind of pitiful but Connor couldn’t be bothered by that fact. He hated the way Markus’ expression softened, expressive eyes taking on a hint of sadness that also settled into the faint smile tugging at the corners of the other man’s mouth.

“Me neither but, like I said, we’ll figure it out. I promise.” There was so much conviction in Markus’ voice that it was nearly impossible not to believe him and Connor finally managed to relax back into the mattress a little, taking a deep breath and feeling the other’s hand rise and fall with the movement of his chest.

“There you go,” Markus smiled before sitting up, both of his hands disappearing from where they had been placed against Connor’s chest and forehead. “You gave me quite the scare when you almost dove down the staircase and passed out on me. That could have ended really badly.”

“Better than being stuck in the wrong universe,” Connor replied dryly and he still couldn’t believe that was the explanation Markus apparently wanted to go with.

Markus quirked a small smile at him that didn’t reach his still unfairly pretty eyes but he didn’t say anything, just scooted up the bed to settle against the headboard, legs stretched out next to Connor. It seemed like Markus didn’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon and while Connor wasn’t too convinced this man was still in possession of all his marbles, he was still kind of relieved about the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The google searches are just the ones that popped up in mine when I searched the keywords. I also searched for the title of this story just for fun because I wondered what kinds of results Connor would get and...I ended up with "buried alive" articles and one about someone's sushi coming back to life and trying to flee? There are very weird things happening in the world, let me tell you... lol


	4. Game Changer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a little to finish this chapter and for some reason I have chapter 13 done already as well (it's possibly going to be chapter 13) and I have no idea why I felt like writing something from the middle of the story. It's gonna be interesting to try and fit that in later on but the scene just wanted to be written and I couldn't help it.
> 
> As I mentioned already, the chapter count might still change because I'm not yet sure how to end the story and my initial plan probably won't work out, even though my initial plan wouldn't be well-received anyway because it's just mean *laughs* So either I change the ending I had in mind or I'm gonna end up writing two endings. We'll see about that...

The silence in the room was almost deafening, only interrupted by the occasional clinking of cutlery or its scraping against plates.

“You know it’s rude to stare, right?” Markus asked and Connor couldn’t be bothered to figure out if his voice sounded amused or confused or maybe even mildly annoyed.

He knew he was staring at Carl, Markus’ father, but it was quite impossible not to because his name was _Carl_ and sitting in a wheelchair, his personality made up of wisdom, playful snark, dry humour and a certain wariness of the world. It was almost the same description that could be used for the grandfather of the Markus in his novel which was the reason Connor felt basically frozen, unable to stop staring at the elderly man that had introduced himself to him as Markus’ adoptive father about half an hour ago.

In his novel, Carl had a disability as well but he was able to walk with the help of a cane, not needing a wheelchair, and he was—as mentioned—Markus’ grandfather by blood. But other than that Connor felt like he was currently staring at his own creation and the number of coincidences was getting pretty damn overwhelming and nearly impossible to ignore.

He still refused to listen to Markus’ idiotic theory about this being another dimension to the one Connor came from. There was absolutely no way that was a thing! Still, the frighteningly accurate similarities to his novel were basically staring right back into his face and Connor felt like he was the one going crazy after all.

Connor was starting to assume he might have had an accident and this was just some comatose hallucination because that seemed to make a lot more sense than anything else.

Carl hadn’t even batted an eyelash when Markus had announced them having a visitor, only welcomed Connor with a small amount of suspicion in his wrinkled old face before they had sat down in the dining room for breakfast as if it was the most normal thing to do in such a situation. It probably was for people that weren’t questioning their sanity and were about to head into some kind of existential crisis.

He barely managed to eat anything, not feeling hungry after everything and Connor was also too wrapped up in his own mind to focus on food right now. Especially when the others had finished their meal and Carl decided to start a conversation about Connor’s current situation.

“So, Markus told me about his theory and I honestly don’t think it’s that far-fetched,” the old man said conversationally while sipping his tea, leaning back in his wheelchair and scrutinising Connor’s reaction with attentive eyes.

“Right, of course,” Connor replied dryly and he was starting to believe that either he was surrounded by crazy people or everyone had decided to just mess with him. Maybe this was one big elaborate prank for some reason?

“Is there magic in your world?”

Okay, this question took him a little bit by surprise and Connor raised his eyebrows, looking at the other two men while waiting for the announcement that they were only pulling his leg or at least start laughing but neither of these things happened.

“There is no _my world_ and there is no real magic. Do you actually believe the nonsense you’re saying because if that’s the case, I’ll take that as my cue to get out of here,” Connor finally said and it was ridiculous to feel rude saying this so bluntly but he was about done with this moronic subject. He had no idea how he got here, that was a real problem, not philosophizing about other dimensions and magic!

“He’s definitely not from here,” was Carl’s only response and Markus nodded with a muttered “Clearly” which was only annoying Connor further. He pushed back his chair, done with all of this bullshit now but once again he was stopped from leaving by Markus who simply stepped into his way with his broad shoulders and determined expression.

“I could show you that we’re not joking around but you’re freaked out enough already,” the other man said with a sigh and his hands hovered in the air as if he wanted to grab Connor’s shoulders but held himself back from actually touching the young author.

“Just show him before he walks out of the door without knowing what’s going on in this world,” Carl said in his calm, deep voice that just made you want to sit down and listen to him talk about all the things he had already seen in his life.

“So he ends up having another panic attack?!”

Connor felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment and he had almost managed to forget about that. That these two were now talking as if he wasn’t standing _right there_ , though, definitely let him forget about his embarrassment right away and while they did sound pretty crazy, this behaviour was quite ridiculous.

“I’m not some delicate flower,” Connor pointed out and drew both Markus’ and Carl’s attention back to his person, raising his eyebrows at them in an almost challenging manner. “Whatever you think is oh so traumatizing, I’m sure I can handle it.”

It would surely be harder for them to realise that whatever nonsense they had made up in their head wasn’t real but Connor didn’t add that to his statement.

Carl just made a _go ahead_ gesture towards his son now while Markus huffed, clearly still not on board with whatever was going on but he muttered a barely audible “Fine” and turned back to properly face Connor, now reaching out to grab his upper arm and almost roughly push him back towards one of the armchairs in the room, forcing him to sit down.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Markus said gruffly and then...he reached for his shirt to tug it over his head.

“Uhm,” was the only thing Connor managed to say at that and his annoyance was now replaced by utter confusion while he struggled to keep his eyes away from the unfairly well-sculpted chest that was now presented to him. This was definitely a terrible time for his brain to short-circuit but his eyes automatically followed Markus’ hands when they moved to undo the front of his pants and… “You know what? I changed my mind, I don’t need to know.”

Markus raised his eyebrows at him and snorted, popping the button of his jeans and undoing the zipper before pushing the pants off his hips and letting them slide down to his ankles. “First: get your mind out of the gutter. Second: this isn’t whatever you think it is anyway.”

Connor felt his cheeks heat up and he made a noise of protest but Markus’ intense stare made it pretty damn clear that he had noticed the way the young author was looking at him and that he couldn’t even pretend to not have his mind in the gutter at the sight of the other’s glorious, almost-naked body.

How Markus managed to undress without batting an eyelash while his father was still in the room was beyond Connor but instead of also pushing down his boxer briefs—these things were so tight, they didn’t exactly hide anything—he now closed his eyes and suddenly the whole atmosphere in the room seemed to change. Connor dragged his eyes away from well-defined abs and glanced up at Markus’ face, frowning when it briefly looked like the other’s expression was _shifting_. Not in the way it would when his features pulled into a frown or another expression but it was more like the basic structure of his whole head was changing.

It was ridiculous, obviously, but then it happened again and Connor felt rather than heard the shocked gasp coming from his own throat when Markus’ body actually started changing in front of him. It was as if his whole skeleton rearranged itself, skin adjusting to the changes and even sprouting white and grey _fur_ everywhere.

All Connor could do was stare, frozen in shock, while his brain started to somehow come up with a logical explanation to what his eyes were seeing, other than _shapeshifter_. A voice in the back of his had said that this would explain why these people had the same names as the characters in his novel but it was ridiculous to think that...There was no way this could be!

It felt like forever but was probably just a few minutes until Markus had changed completely and Connor was now faced with a beautiful husky that glanced back at him with heterochromatic eyes and he still tried to wrap his mind around the fact that this was Markus. Markus had turned into a dog right in front of his eyes and when he glanced at Carl, he noticed that the old man was thoroughly unimpressed by the whole event, clearly used to this.

“I’m going crazy, right?” The young author asked, not knowing what else to say and he didn’t even care that his voice sounded a little weak and shaky.

“No, you’re perfectly sane,” Carl replied easily, taking a sip of his second cup of coffee while looking back at Connor with calm eyes. “He’s a shapeshifter and there are quite a few more like him in this world. Most people treat them terrible—like pets or even slaves—but they are just like us.”

Connor remembered the kid earlier that had called Markus a monster and he had been pretty damn shocked about this act of racism, especially coming from such a young kid. He supposed the fact that Markus being a...shapeshifter...didn’t really make the action less racist, though. The young author wasn’t too sure if the term actually applied in such a case, though. Nonetheless, people were treating Markus shitty for being different and Connor didn’t have to believe this whole supernatural stuff in order to recognise the wrong behind such actions.

“But...how can this be real? How can this be Detroit and still not be Detroit?” Connor blurted out while looking at the husky again that was still staring back at him patiently, only including his head to the side a bit while watching the young author’s every movement.

“I don’t know but it seems the only logical explanation is what Markus’ said, that this is indeed some kind of alternate universe to yours and you somehow ended up crossing over,” Carl said and Connor couldn’t even believe he was actually having such a conversation right now. “I doubt such a thing just happens out of nowhere, though. Do you have any idea what happened to you? Anything out of the ordinary before you woke up here?”

“No. I went to bed like every evening and when I woke up it was in your front yard,” Connor replied after a short moment of thinking but there had been absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. “Also...even if this is real, I’m not sure alternate universe fits, really.”

Carl raised his eyebrows, clearly prompting him to go on and explain his assumption but Connor didn’t know how he should explain the whole _all of this is pretty similar to the novel I’m writing_. Shapeshifters and alternate universes were insane enough but ending up in a fictional world of your own creation? Connor had to draw a line somewhere or he could just wave goodbye to the last bit of sanity right away.

“What do you mean by that?” Carl finally asked when it became clear that Connor didn’t plan on elaborate on his assumption and Markus shifted his position now as well, carefully stepping closer to nudge his head against the author’s knee as if telling him to go on.

Before he could stop himself, Connor already ended up reaching out to brush his fingers against the top of the dog’s head. It was difficult to stay aware of the fact that this was actually a human being and not a regular dog, especially when the dog huffed and tilted its head into the touch like any other dog would do.

“Forget about it. It’s nonsense anyway,” Connor dismissed quickly and while Carl seemed to accept his answer with only a small frown, Markus simply stared at him and pushed his furry head further into Connor’s palm but it didn’t seem like a prompt for more caresses, rather like a prompt to explain.

There was no way Connor would admit to the crazy thought of this being his novel out loud. How would he even start to explain to Markus that he might just be a fictional character? Besides, it was also confusing how similar a lot of things were but it wasn’t the same as in his story.

Markus didn’t have heterochromia in his book and he turned into a wolf, not a husky. Carl wasn’t bound to a wheelchair and the two were blood-related instead of Markus being adopted. Connor didn’t understand how any of this worked, how this could possibly be his novel while also being different from it at the same time. Plus, this was clearly still very early on in his story since Markus was still at home, Carl was still alive— _oh God_ , if this was his novel that meant Carl would possibly die if that hadn’t changed as well.

Connor breathed out a heartfelt “Fuck” and jumped up to his feet, causing the husky to flinch and actually bark at him in protest but the author couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to that. He basically fled the room and, since he didn’t know where else to go, headed upstairs to Markus’ room. He needed a moment to himself, to wrap his mind around everything and to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do because no matter if this was just a novel, he couldn’t exactly sit idly by when he knew what would happen to Carl during the course of the story.

Carl would die and Markus would almost get killed, losing everything before accidentally ending up as the leader of a revolution to fight for equality for his kind. Connor had liked the story and all the drama in it before but now that he seemed to be in the middle of it, that it had suddenly become real, he felt absolutely terrible about the things he put his characters through.


	5. Piece by Piece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is my birthday so here, have another chapter—that's how it works, right? :D
> 
> Someone new shows up, humans are assholes (duh!), Connor is stuck in a loop of guilt and Markus is a protective pup.

Of course, Markus followed him upstairs and he had shifted back before opening the door to his room where Connor had settled onto the large bed. He had dragged one of Markus’ many pillows into his lap, hugging it to his chest and narrowed his eyes at the other man.

Markus was back in human form but since he had apparently shifted back literally right before entering the room, he wasn’t wearing a single piece of clothing right now. Usually, Connor would definitely appreciate the sight but he averted his gaze and only muttered that he wanted to be left alone.

He still felt confused, shocked and just overall helpless. Everything pointed towards this being his own novel but there was no logical explanation as to how this could happen or why things weren’t exactly how he had written them. Nothing made any sense and all Connor wanted was to be back home.

“I know all of this must be too much right now but you had to know,” Markus said, his voice kind of soft as he stepped up to the bed and his fingers were hovering close to Connor’s shoulder, clearly undecided if it would be okay to touch. “Whatever you want to know, just ask. I’ll help you with this as best as I can and so will Carl.”

 _Carl_. The man who was most likely going to die soon if this was actually his writing that had come to life somehow. Connor felt a lump in his throat and shook his head. He should tell Markus but he couldn’t do that. Despite everything going on, it still sounded way too crazy to tell the other man that he had apparently been sucked into his own novel.

“This can’t be real. How could this actually be happening?” Connor finally muttered because it felt like his head would explode if he didn’t make room for all these thoughts if he didn’t get some of them out of his mind.

“I don’t know. I don’t know about these things and I didn’t know that this was possible either but it’s the only thing that makes sense, clearly.”

“How does any of this make sense to you??” The young author knew he was starting to sound a little hysterical but surely he was allowed to freak out in this kind of situation.

Markus sighed and sat down at her corner of the bed, his hand resting close to Connor’s thigh on the mattress but he was clearly making sure not to touch him. “You saw what I am. This world had a certain kind of magic and it’s not too far-fetched to believe in travel between different universes when there are shapeshifters and sorcerers.”

Connor stared at the mattress before his head snapped up at the mention of sorcerers.

“Sorcerers? So...if I was to go to a sorcerer, they surely would be able to send me back to my world, right? That’s how it works, correct?”

Markus blinked at him with his pretty, heterochromatic eyes and shrugged a little helplessly. “I don’t know much about sorcerers. There aren’t that many left since the humans love to get rid of those that are different. They’re scared of sorcerers and killed most of them over the centuries. There are only a few left, as far as I know, and they live in hiding.”

Of course, it would be something like this. Connor hadn’t even written sorcerers and actual magic into his novel but if he had, it probably would have been along these lines. Why were there elements in this story that he hadn’t added to it?

“How would I be able to find a sorcerer? There must be a way to contact one and ask for help,” the young author said and no matter how ridiculous all of this sounded, it was probably his one chance to get out of this situation so he decided to go along with the insanity of it all.

“I honestly don’t know. I’m sorry. But I can try to find out,” Markus offered and now his hand did reach out, gently settling on top of Connor’s knee who suddenly got very aware of the other man’s nakedness.

“Would you mind putting on some clothes?” He asked, raising his eyebrows while looking at Markus, refusing to allow his gaze to flicker down to the other’s ridiculously toned chest and...other parts. Connor would end up getting whiplash if this back and forth between panicked-confusion and uncalled-for attraction for _a shapeshifter_ continued. He wondered if that was even something he should be feeling. Considering Markus was kind of part animal.

“Right, yes, sorry,” the other man muttered and got up from the bed.

Connor wasn’t too sure if he imagined it or if Markus was actually blushing—it was a little difficult to tell with the tone of his skin but his cheeks seemed to have darkened a shade or two.

He watched Markus who walked up to the big wardrobe in the room and now his eyes did betray him, flickering down to spot a very nicely shaped and muscular looking butt. Connor groaned under his breath and buried his face in his hands. He was so screwed…

*******

It was the first time since waking up in the rose bush for Connor to leave the impressively huge house and Markus had refused to let him head out alone for reason unknown to him. He knew this world was dangerous for shapeshifters but the young author was thoroughly human so there was no reason for the other man to be concerned about that.

Instead of accompanying him in human form, though, Marus had shifted into the husky once more, trotting alongside him in the mild late summer day, only stopping occasionally to sniff at something like any other dog would do as well.

Connor figured he should probably start asking a few questions about Markus soon, not just because it was odd not to ask about such a thing but also because it would be wise to get to know more about this world in general. Since he was stuck here for now, Connor might as well try to make the best of it and adjust to it for the time being.

“So, am I technically taking you on a walk right now?” He asked teasingly after a few more metres were left behind and couldn’t help but grin when the big husky raised his head to glare and huff at him. It was probably mean to tease the other right now since Markus couldn't exactly talk back—how disturbing would that be, a talking dog?—but talking somehow seemed easier when he wasn’t faced by another person.

Connor had been rather quiet and withdrawn since the whole shapeshifter reveal had happened together with his silent realisation that he was indeed stuck in his own novel. He figured since Markus seemed to be as much the caring type as he had written his character to be, that the other man was worried about his well being and that was the reason Markus had insisted to tag along.

He was probably supposed to be weirded out by his company but somehow, Connor couldn't really dislike this unexpected side of Markus. He liked dogs very much, had always had a soft spot for Hank’s Saint Bernard by the name of Sumo, and this husky was just the prettiest dog he had ever seen. Not that it was actually surprising that a good looking man like Markus would turn into an equally good looking dog rather than some disproportionate mixed breed.

“I kind of want to head to the place why my apartment is supposed to be,” Connor then announced because he was curious about seeing how different this world actually was from his, even though it would probably be disconcerting as well, to have even more proof of how this was not his world.

Markus looked up at him at that, shaking his head suddenly and stopping dead in his tracks, obviously not in favour of Connor’s spontaneous idea. It wasn’t like he wanted to go there  _right now_ , anyway, but he still wondered why the other man apparently thought it was a bad idea.

Before he could nonsensically ask why Markus was against it—he should save that question for when the other man would actually be able to answer him—there was suddenly shouting coming from somewhere ahead of them and Connor raised his eyebrows in alarmed confusion.

“What the hell—?” He muttered and, ignoring the unhappy sound coming from the husky by his side, Connor started to walk in the direction of the noise. Rounding the next corner, he found himself in a narrow alleyway and there were two guys clearly molesting a woman. Despite these men looking quite bulky, Connor didn't hesitate for a second was just about to call out to them, when the woman suddenly knocked one of them onto their ass with a scary amount of ease.

The other guy took the chance and used her distraction to grab the woman, though, and now Connor didn't stay back and watch but ran up to them and grabbed the man’s shoulder in an attempt to pull him away from the woman. He hadn't expected the guy’s elbow to shoot back and knock right into the side of his ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs.

Connor stumbled back with a surprised gasp, hand pressed against his now throbbing ribs, and the man whirled around with a scarily angry expression. Before the man was able to do more than grab him by the collar of his shirt— _Markus’ shirt_ , actually—there was a threatening growl and the attacker let off suddenly, trying to shake off the husky that had bitten into the leg of his jeans.

The man didn’t even hesitate when he tried to kick the dog’s side but Markus was faster than that and jumped back, baring his sharp teeth with another deep growl. Even Connor felt quite intimidated by the rather big animal, despite the knowledge that there was nothing for him to worry about.

“What the hell is your problem, man?!” Connor asked now, a little breathless and his ribs were still throbbing but he refused to leave it up to Markus to chase this maniac away.

“Nobody wants these disgusting creatures here! Just because most people are quiet and don’t openly complain doesn’t mean they’re fine with these abominations everywhere! It’s time to take matters into our own hands to stop this,” the man spat and there was so much anger, hate and disgust in his expression, radiating off of his posture, that Connor almost felt physically sick from it.

“ _These creatures_ are people. What kind of monster are you?!”

Connor stumbled when the man reached out to roughly push him backwards and caused his back to collide with the brick wall of the building behind him, a small gasp escaping his throat because the impact was slightly painful. Markus was still growling and even barked now, teeth snapping to sink back into the man’s jeans to tug him away before the husky stepped in between Connor and this douchebag in a protective stance.

“I’m not the monster here, these are! Are you one of them? Are you an abomination as well? Either way, you deserve punishment for siding with them anyway,” the man announced darkly and Connor felt a shiver run down his spine.

What the hell was going on?! Granted, he had written that quite a lot of people were discriminating against shapeshifters which then also led to the whole revolution but once again Connor had to admit that writing something and living it were two _very_ different things. Suffering with your characters while you write a painful situation was nothing compared to being right there by their side and witness it go down in person.

“You’re sick,” Connor said and he wished he had better words to say but he just felt so angry and helpless that words simply failed him. Plus, he knew there was no arguing with such a person anyway, no matter how well thought through his statements might be, this guy wouldn’t see reason because of it.

“How about you get the fuck out of here and stop shoving your narrow-minded bullshit into other peoples’ faces?!” The woman that had been attacked in the first place butted in now, crossing her arms in front of her chest while stepping next to Connor, glaring up at the man. She definitely wasn’t scared of the guy, despite him easily tower over her and being twice her width. It was impressive, Connor had to admit.

Markus added to her words with another bark, snapping at the man with his sharp teeth and the guy seemed to decide that it wouldn’t be too smart to keep on attacking three opponents at once, even though Connor knew he was probably by far the easiest target in this situation. The guy muttered some more insults that Connor would have preferred to not hear but he turned around to leave the alleyway with stomping footfalls.

“I didn’t need your help,” the woman announced before the attacker had even rounded the corner and Connor’s head whipped around, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

“Sure. You had it under control, right?” He snarked, unable to help himself because this guy might have done who-knew-what to this woman if they hadn’t interfered and while she had clearly been able to stand her ground to some extent, there was no reason for ill-placed pride here.

“Exactly!” She glowered at him while taking a small step back as if she didn’t want to be too close to Connor and something like disgust briefly flickered over her expression but maybe the young author had misinterpreted that. There was no reason for her to despise him, right?

“Thank you, I guess,” she then said but was facing Markus now who had sat down in front of Connor, regarding the woman with a hint of wariness.

It was quite fascinating how expression the dog’s face was but maybe it was just too easy to see human emotions in everything the husky did because it was actually a human. Connor huffed but refused to start a fight with some random women just because she refused to thank him as well. He was just glad she was okay, who cared about gratitude anyway?

“My name is North.”

_Oh._

In the novel, Markus only met North _after_ losing Carl and almost being beaten to death by the cops which caused another wave of nausea to wash over Connor because Markus would have to go through all that shit, probably sooner rather than later. Still, the differences from this world to his novel continued to throw him off and kickstart his confusion anew.

“I’m Connor”—she clearly didn’t care because North didn’t even look at him—”and that’s Markus,” he introduced the husky as well since Markus wasn’t exactly able to introduce himself right now. North nodded, silently mouthed the other’s name and smiled before announcing that she had to go now because she had places to be and more asses to kick.

“Be more careful from now on,” Connor couldn’t help but call out after her, rolling his eyes when North just flipped him off over her shoulder before leaving the alley. “Charming.”

Markus huffed and got up, headbutting Connor’s thigh before inclining his head towards the direction they had come from, probably prompting him to head back to the mansion instead of wandering around the streets for longer after this uncomfortable encounter.

“I guess you’re right,” he muttered and was already patting the dog’s head before he was aware of moving his hand. Connor drew his hand back quickly, turning on his heels and walking back out of the backstreet. It took a few seconds until he could hear the clacking of Markus’ claws on the asphalt that told him the other was following him.


	6. No Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whole chapter the day after uploading the last one but decided to wait at least a little bit before updating again. The story is finally starting properly now so get ready for some drama in this part.

Writing a story held the power to influence whatever would happen next.

Being within your own story only held the opportunity to _try_ and influence what would happen next with a slim chance of actually changing the outcome to the one desired.

Connor considered himself pretty smart but this was a lesson in logic versus experience and it would be quite the difficult lesson to learn, he already noticed that much while he sat in Markus’ room, anxiously awaiting what might happen next after Leo had shown up earlier today, asking Carl for money that the artist refused to give. Just like in his novel, Leo was a crappy son, back on drugs and only wanting his father’s money above all else.

Though now that scene had happened, Connor knew all too well what would happen next and he was absolutely terrified of it. He figured that maybe he could do something about it if he stayed attentive and went downstairs as soon as Leo showed up. He could try to talk Carl’s son out of this and maybe even get him to leave before Markus and his father came back from the opening event at the gallery that they were attending this evening. Nobody would have to know Leo had basically broken into the house.

Connor was aware that such an interference would drastically change everything ahead because this was supposed to be the event that kickstarted the revolution but he couldn’t just let it happen. He couldn’t watch Leo bully Markus and Carl suffer from a fatal heart attack due to his sons’ fight. He couldn't allow Markus to lose everything, his life included since that would be almost ended right there with Carl’s.

 _I should have warned them_ , Connor berated himself, biting down on his bottom lip until the point that he could taste blood, and his fingers were nervously fiddling with the silky blanket halfway tugged over his lap. He was staying in one of the many guest rooms but for some reason always found himself wandering back to Markus’ room at every given opportunity. He should definitely figure out how to stop whatever feelings he was developing for the other man but right now, that was actually the least of his worries.

A couple of minutes went by with him just staring into nothing but then his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door being unlocked and he knew it was starting. Connor hadn’t even really thought about what he would say to Leo but there was no time to waste now. He shoved the blanket aside, jumped up from the bed and straightened the clothes he had once again borrowed from Markus because he hadn’t exactly brought anything along for this trip into his own book.

Connor winced every time the stairs creaked softly underneath his feet but he managed to get downstairs without being noticed since Leo was in the studio, the only room with the lights on in the whole mansion right now.

Taking a deep breath, Connor stepped through the open doors and quietly shut them before clearing his throat a little awkwardly, almost jumping when Leo whirled around in shock.

“You really shouldn’t do this,” Connor said without greeting, pointedly looking at the table Leo was standing in front of where he was currently rolling up one of his father’s paintings. Of course, he knew that the young man did so to steal the paintings and sell them, get money to finance his drug addiction.

Leo had never been one of the well-liked characters and despite his rather short appearance in the novel, a lot of people had started to discuss his actions in detail. Connor, while drafting and writing the character, had never quite hated Leo. Sure, he was really shitty and unfair towards both, Markus and his father, but on some level, it was also understandable.

Not only was Leo’s judgement clouded by the drugs in his system, he was clearly jealous and scared that his father had replaced him and liked Markus better than his biological son. His actions were a loud cry for help and even the terrible nature of them didn’t change that.

“What do you want?! This is none of your business!” Leo replied testily and glared at him before simply resuming his theft. His movements were jittery and uncoordinated since he was clearly suffering from withdrawals and Connor realised how unpredictable that made this whole situation. People were always unpredictable to a certain degree but being under the influence of a drug broadened the range of possible outcomes so much more because the reactions wouldn’t just be defined by Leo’s personality but also by whoever the drugs changed him into.

“Do you really want to steal from your own father just to be able to finance your addiction? Do you want to ruin your relationship with Carl that badly?” Connor heard himself ask while also taking a cautious step forward against his better judgement. He didn’t want any harm coming to Markus or Carl but he also shouldn’t risk getting himself hurt or worse in this scenario.

There was a fine line between bravery and insanity—Connor didn’t know which side he was currently leaning towards with his actions but there was no time to think this through. There was only a small window of time for him to either diffuse the scenario about to happen or watch it escalate.

“There is no _relationship_ to be ruined anymore. He already did that by taking in that _creature_ and treating it more like a son than he has ever done with me,” the young man spat, his movements becoming more agitated with the flare of emotions and Connor winced inwardly. This was not going well.

“Of course there is. He’s your father. He loves and cared about you, that much was very obvious earlier,” Connor tried and kept his voice low and calm, hopefully managing to influence Leo’s riled-up mood for the better this way. “I’m sure he’d help you if you’d let him.”

“ _I don’t need help!_ ” Leo basically screamed now, whirling around and pointing his finger accusingly at Connor while stalking up to him, causing the young author to take a cautious step back. “He abandoned me and chose this...this  _thing_ over his own flesh and blood! I asked him for help and he refused!”

Connor felt the wall against his back and wondered if all of this had been a smart move but he was in this situation now and had to make the best of it. Leo was close enough to poke his finger into Connor’s chest and he just hoped the other didn’t feel his rather panicked heartbeat, he didn’t want the other man to know that Connor was actually kind of scared of him.

“You didn’t ask for his help. You asked for his money and blamed him for everything that went wrong in your life despite you being responsible for it.” Connor knew it wasn’t his brightest move to blame Leo and put him into the role of the person in the wrong but he knew Carl would never abandon his own child, that he only refused the money because he didn’t want Leo to put more toxic bullshit into his body to get high. The artist himself had a history of substance abuse so he of all people knew the dangerous situation his son was in.

“This wouldn’t have happened without that fucking cur! Everything went wrong ever since my father decided to take in that stray and he treats the thing better like his own son. He forgot all about me and only focused on that bastard so I turned to other people for help when I needed it!”

Connor clenched his teeth at the curses and derogatory speech directed at Markus but he couldn’t focus on that whole other issue right now. There was a lot Leo had to learn but right now it was most important to get him to calm down and leave without causing any more of a scene.

“I get it. You feel like Carl replaced you but that’s not what happened. Did he really shut you out or did you do that all by yourself? Did you even try to give Markus a chance and understand your father’s actions or did you just decide to withdraw on your own accord?” Connor questioned, fully aware that Leo had done just that. Instead of trying to understand and be part of the new circumstances, he had distanced himself from his father and sought comfort in drugs but now decided to blame his jealous actions on Carl.

“You don’t get anything! You’re just another stray my father has taken in,” Leo groused, jabbing his chest painfully and stepping even further into Connor’s personal space.

Being human, his senses weren’t sharp enough to pay attention to everything going on around him, his hearing fully focused on Leo’s words and not registering the moment the doors to the studio slid open until another voice joined their conversation.

“Leo, what are you doing?!” It was Carl and, of course, Markus was right there by his side and Connor felt his stomach clench up painfully. He was too late, he had taken too long and now the confrontation would happen anyway.

“I was just taking what is rightfully mine anyway but this douchebag came to try and lecture me about it!” Leo announced and still didn’t bother to back off, even when Markus took a small step closer with his heterochromatic eyes trained on both of them but mostly flickering to Connor as if trying to silently communicate something to him that Connor wasn’t able to understand.

„He wanted to steal Carl‘s paintings to sell them,“ Connor said to explain what Leo meant by that and now Markus narrowed his eyes at the other man but Carl was the first one to speak up.

“Leave my house! Markus, get him out here,” the artist said with a gravelly voice and a pained expression that seemed to tug at Connor’s heart. It must be so incredibly hurtful to see your own son trying to steal from you rather than accept the offered help.

“I’m not leaving without _something_ ,” Leo announced right away, taking a small step back and dropping his hand where it had still been against Connor’s chest. He glared at Markus with a mixture of hatred and disgust before turning around to walk back to the table where he had been rolling up one of the paintings he wanted to steal. “I’d inherit all of this anyway so why not leave it to me already.”

The words were venomous and Connor didn’t have to look at Carl to know it must have hit him pretty hard. He noticed that Markus was about to step closer and remembered that the action would lead to Leo lashing out and Carl telling Markus to not fight back. Before the shapeshifter could do more than a single step, Connor rushed past him and grabbed Leo’s upper arm without thinking.

“You heard your father. Leave the house,” he said and added an “Or we will have to call the cops” despite knowing the other two had probably done so already before entering the studio. Though he briefly wondered if they actually had since the house was actually empty in his story but now he was part of the equation—they could have assumed it was just him in the studio, not an intruder.

“What kind of father would call the cops on his own son?” Leo replied and tried to shake Connor’s hand off but since that didn’t work, he suddenly raised his other arm and the young author hadn’t expected such a precise and fast punch, unprepared for the impact against the side of his jaw. His grip on Leo’s arm loosened as he stumbled back and almost lost his footing.

The other man was about to punch him again, ready to attack for real now, but before Leo even managed to grab the front of his shirt, Markus was there. Markus shielded him from the next punch and instead of hitting back he simply pushed Leo, clearly wanting him to back off and get some distance between them. The push was harder than intended, though, and it made Leo be the one to lose his footing now and he crashed back into the table with a sickening sound as his head hit the edge of it. Leo was unconscious before he hit the ground and there was a small stream of blood pooling underneath his head.

Connor stared with wide eyes, the outcome more than unexpected since this wasn’t even close to what had happened in his novel. Leo wasn’t the one to die in this scenario. He barely registered Carl calling out his son’s name and once again he also didn’t notice people entering the room until it was already too late.

They clearly had called the police and the two officers had their guns drawn, pointing them at Markus who was hovering over the apparently dead body, fingers dipped in red because he had been about to inspect the wound and see if Leo was still alive. The cops barely even gave him a chance to react and as soon as Markus started to raise his hands, obviously to surrender and not to attack, the shots were already fired...

*******

“He can’t be dead.”

Carl sighed heavily, grief so very prominently etched into his features and he looked so much older than he actually was right now. The pain of losing a son—of almost losing both of his son’s—was clear in every movement and Connor immediately felt sorry for being the one to walk around the room like an anxious bundle of nerves. He had been here for barely a week, technically, he didn’t have the right to be this upset about the events from a few hours ago.

“I wish he wasn’t,” the artist said with a gruff voice, sounding uncharacteristically small and he looked so weak, slumped over in his wheelchair while a caretaker from some home assistance service was standing in the back, clearly trying to not listen in to the conversation and giving a certain amount of privacy.

Without Markus around, Carl had immediately asked for someone to come by in order to help him during the daily things that his adoptive son had always taken care of so far. The man they had sent was towering over Connor by at least two heads and his shoulders were probably thrice as wide as his. He felt a little intimidated by the giant man but as soon as the guy had introduced himself as Luther with a soft handshake and kind eyes, that initial reaction had gone out of the window right away. As far as he could tell, the guy was an absolute softie, even though Connor didn’t even know him—Luther wasn’t part of his novel.

“I’m going to bed now and you should do the same,” Carl announced and Luther stepped closer as this was his cue to wheel the artist out of the room and towards the wheelchair lift next to the huge staircase.

“I’ll try. I hope you can sleep well and I’m really sorry,” Connor said softly, his shoulders slumping while his whole body was still thrumming with restless energy. He wanted to rant more about the injustice of the situation and also about how easily Carl had accepted Markus’ death even though the two officers had just taken his body out of the house without regarding the body with much attention.

Connor felt like Markus could have still been alive but the police hadn’t bothered to check properly and the paramedics had only taken care of Leo who was, in fact, still alive. Carl had been in too much shock to question the objective professionalism of the cops and paramedics alike.

This was what Connor had been scared of happening, even though it had gone down so differently from what he had written. Markus had been beaten to almost-death instead of shot down—neither option was in any way humane or warranted—and Carl had died. While the author was happy that the artist was still alive, he refused to believe that Markus was actually dead. _He couldn’t be!_

But since this was different from his novel, who was to say the revolution would really happen or that it would be started by Markus? Maybe North would be the one rising to be the leader of the movement and Markus was actually dead now.

The thought made it hard for Connor to breathe and he was this close to just burst into tears. Over a fictional character of his own creation. A fictional character that he had been developing a stupid, useless crush on. A fictional character that had been nothing but kind to him despite having been treated like garbage by most people he had ever encountered.

Markus was by far the kindest soul Connor had ever encountered, far more so than the one he had written, and he regretted not having told the other the truth, not having warned him about any of this. This was on him.

Connor managed to just sit silently in the study for about ten minutes until he jumped to his feet, walking into the lobby and grabbing the coat that was actually Markus’. He felt the pocket for the keys so he would be able to get back into the house later, before pushing the front door open and slipping into the cold night. He couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. He had to make sure Markus was actually dead if not, the other definitely needed help!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to tag the story with "canon temporary character death" because I suppose that's the closest fit? I had no idea what else to take and using "major character death" or the likes would just scare people off plus it would be wrong anyway.


	7. Twist of Fate

Being kicked out of a police precinct had never been something Connor had ever remotely expected to ever happen to him but there he was, standing in front of the precinct in the light drizzle that had decided to start a few minutes earlier. At least they hadn’t charged him with anything for insulting an officer or whatever it counted as to talk back to that dumb prick of a cop.

 _Gavin Reed_. The guy was a character in his novel as well and somehow meeting him face to face was even more infuriating than imagining his character while writing him. Maybe Connor should have just outright insulted the douchebag but since he didn’t exactly have any money in this world it would be difficult to pay a fee or bail. Though he could imagine Carl would probably help him out in such a case. Maybe.

Anyway, Gavin Reed was an absolute dick and Connor never wanted to see his stupid face ever again if he could help it. The guy had been less than helpful when Connor had asked about Markus, what had happened with his body and if they had actually determined his death. Gavin had basically just told him that nobody cared if such a creature had instantly died or only afterwards and that they had already ‘gotten rid’ of the body.

That had been the point where Connor had outright called the officer an insensitive asshole and heartless bastard for treating Markus like trash that got thrown out and as if he wasn’t even worth getting a proper burial. He had no clue how to inform Carl of this.

Needless to say that his little outburst had been the end of the conversation and he had almost been forcefully removed from the precinct. Connor didn’t even feel guilty about this, though, because it was horrible how people viewed the shapeshifters and how little they cared about the lives of those that were different.

Connor wondered if they would have told him where they had discarded of Markus’ body but he supposed not. He also didn’t want to imagine how they did just that. In his novel, there had been a junkyard in the outer part of the city where they got rid of dead shapeshifters instead of burying them properly—tossing them away like a damaged car or the likes—and Connor’s stomach twisted at the thought of Markus being there.

If only he knew where exactly that place was in this world. He had never properly defined the location in his books so there was no telling where it could be now. Connor couldn’t exactly travel around the city to check every junkyard there was. Plus, he couldn’t imagine this one actually being in any map so it would be even more difficult to find the place.

As the rain grew stronger, Connor simply tilted his head back a little to allow it to properly hit his face, not even caring that his glasses would be a blurry mess after this. The water felt comfortably cool against his face and if it washed away a few tears that he wasn’t able to hold back, nobody had to know.

*******

Almost two weeks went by without Connor knowing what the hell to do. He kept Carl company who was understandably still grieving the loss of Markus and worried about Leo and he somehow managed to become somewhat like friends with Luther. The caretaker was really quiet and a little difficult to read but he had a kind soul and Connor couldn’t help but enjoy his calming company.

It was another day where Connor had woken up with the dread of not knowing what to do to get out of this world again, wondering why he had once again fallen asleep in Markus’ room, and he had just settled onto the couch next to Carl when the news clip on tv made him gasp.

_‘A group of what seemed to have been only shapeshifters broke into a store last night, stealing clothes and food among various other things. This is the first time ever this has happened. There have been individual cases in the past but never an apparently planned group robbery.’_

While the woman was talking, a picture showed up on screen. It was clearly from a surveillance camera, only grey scales and pretty blurry but it was still easy to recognise the figure in the front, despite barely being able to make out the features of the face only shown from the profile.

“He’s still alive,” Connor muttered in disbelief and his heart started to speed up because there was absolutely no doubt that this was Markus. Markus was with a group of other shapeshifters and he had broken into a store but _he was alive_. “Why didn’t he come back here?! How is he even well enough to be walking around?”

The answer to the first question was actually easy: it was too dangerous. This was the kind of neighbourhood where everyone already knew what had happened about two weeks ago and since several of the people living here were discriminating against shifters, they would definitely call the cops if they saw Markus here. It would also cause trouble for Carl since everyone believed Markus had tried to kill Leo or at least attacked him in cold-blood rather than self-defence. It would be like harbouring a fugitive in the public eye.

“Shapeshifters have a much faster and more effective healing rate than we humans do,” was all Carl said and he looked shaken but there was the smallest hint of a tired, relieved smile etched into his features. The artist had gotten quieter and weaker over the past two weeks but now that Markus was obviously still alive, hopefully, Carl would start to get better again.

Leo was still in the hospital with his head injury but he had finally woken up a few days ago and there didn’t seem to be any lasting damage other than slight amnesia that would hopefully go by in a couple of days, according to the doctors.

“And I'm sure you can figure out why he hasn’t come home,” Carl added after a beat of silence, sounding tired and a little bit resign. Connor couldn’t blame him; this world and this society could be very exhausting. “You’re not an idiot.”

“I can imagine, yeah. Still, he could have messaged you somehow and let you know he’s still alive.” It couldn’t be impossible to make a short call or send a letter or _anything_ to at least let his father know he wasn’t actually dead, right? Connor was definitely more than glad Markus was alive but he still wanted to kick the other’s ass for not trying to contact Carl—for letting neither of them know he was as okay as someone could be in his current situation.

“You were right. You have been so adamant about him still being alive. Why was that?”

Connor blinked in surprise, not having expected this change of topic while Carl lowered the volume of the tv since the weather report was starting and neither of them was particularly interested in that.

“I guess I just didn’t want to believe he’s dead,” he said with a small shrug and sank a little further into the couch after reaching for his coffee cup to have something in his hands, to fiddle with.

“Don’t lie to me, Connor. I’ve been on this earth quite a few years longer than you have; I know when someone is just clinging to desperate hope and when someone acts out of a reason to believe.”

Okay, he hadn’t expected this either. How was he supposed to explain to Carl why he had been pretty sure Markus had to still be alive? _This world is actually from a book I wrote and while things are a little different, he_ had _to be alive in order to start a revolution and fight for equal rights for shapeshifters._ Right, because that sounded sane and logical. Even in a world with shapeshifters, magic and dimensional portals, that sounded quite unbelievable.

“I can't explain it,” Connor finally muttered, staring into his cup with the surely already cold coffee.

“Try me.”

Connor felt he should have expected this reaction and breathed out a sigh, carding his fingers through his messy curls before placing the cup back in the table and dragging one of the pillows into his lap instead, hugging it to his chest as if that would help in any way with what he was about to say.

“I mentioned before that I’m an author?” He was sure he had mentioned it to Carl as well, not just to Markus but he wanted to make sure anyway. When the artist had nodded his confirmation, Connor nodded curtly as well. “This isn’t just a parallel universe or whatever. It seems that I ended up in my own novel.”

There was no talking around the matter so he had decided to just get to the point right away. Silence settled over them and Connor wondered if Carl was waiting for him to announce he was joking.

“I see,” was all the reply he got after at least a minute went by and, surprisingly, it didn’t even sound sarcastic or like Carl thought he was nuts. There was an expected hint of scepticism in his gruff voice but he didn’t sound like he was disregarding the matter right away.

“I know it sounds crazy and I didn't want to believe it, still try to come up with another explanation that makes more sense, but it’s kind of hard to deny at this point,” he admitted with a sigh and still didn't quite dare to look at Carl, almost scared of the expression that might await him in the artist’s wrinkled face. “It’s not exactly the same, though. Some things a different.”

“I’m assuming that means you knew it would happen.”

Carl didn't have to clarify what he was referring to.

“I know I should have said something but I didn't think anyone would have believed me or that this was actually what’s going on. I tried to change the events and...well...I kind of did but I don’t know if this outcome is much better.”

“What was supposed to happen?”

How to word this without sounding like an absolutely horrible person?

“You would have died.”

Clearly not like that.

“In my story, Leo attacks Markus and you tell him not to fight back. So Markus doesn't and you suffer a heart attack.”

Carl hummed in understanding and when Connor finally did glance at the other man, the artist didn’t seem to be too upset or even angry with him. He just seemed thoughtful. “That’s why you were so convinced that Markus is still alive.”

“I wasn’t sure, to be honest. Like I said, things turn out differently here so I feared he might have actually died.”

“Who is Markus? To your novel, I mean?” Carl asked and looked back at him, expression calm and even curious.

“He’s...he’s the protagonist,” the young author admitted and for some reason felt a little bit embarrassed about that. Why, he didn’t know.

“So he couldn’t have died because the story would have been over with his death,” the old man said as if it was the most logical thing in the world and Connor wondered if Carl could actually believe all these things so easily. Maybe the fact that he was an artist and imagine things for a living played a role in his very open mind, Connor mused.

He offered Carl to tell him more about his novel and the amazing things Markus would do in the future but Carl refused to know anything about the possible future. Connor respected that and then wondered out loud if there was a way to figure out where Markus was currently residing and if maybe he should try to find the other man. Carl didn’t object to the idea and Connor spent half of the night thinking it through instead of sleeping.

*******

“If you managed to find him, please tell him,” Carl started and then paused, apparently thinking his next words over again and he looked like he had quite a lot to say but after a moment he simply settled with, “tell him I love him. That he’s my son and I’ll support him, no matter what.”

Connor barely resisted the urge to grab his chest at the slightly painful throbbing of his heart because Carl looked heartbroken to have his son taken from him while also being proud of him and wanting him to be well. He knew the artist would prefer for Markus to just come home and for things to go back to normal but that might not ever happen.

Well, Connor knew there was a chance for that after the revolution but a revolution wasn’t exactly a matter of a few weeks or only months. It could be _years_ until Markus would be able to come back home safely. If he even survived that long since his future endeavours as leader of a revolution wasn’t exactly something that would make him well-liked by a lot of people.

“I will, I promise. If I do actually manage to find him. Maybe I’ll be back in a day already,” Connor replied with a lopsided grin and he didn’t even have a proper plan for this. He was bundled up in Markus’ clothes, his boots and coat, plus he had a backpack filled with supplies and a change of clothes. Carl had even given him quite the ridiculous amount of money and Connor already felt guilty because he was quite certain he would fail this anyway.

He didn’t know where he should start looking for Markus and how he would be able to get to the other man since he was clearly with other shapeshifters and Connor kind of doubted they would be very welcoming of a human. There were so many factors involved that he was unable to predict and yet here he was, waving goodbye to Carl and Luther before wandering down the street in his moronic endeavour to go find Markus.

Connor told himself that the main reason for his decision was the fact that Markus was the one person capable of helping him find a way to get back to his own world but deep down the young author knew that was only secondary. Mostly, he already liked Markus too much for his own good and wanted to make sure the other was fine, for himself and also for Carl.

So now, he had ended up taking a bus to aimlessly wander around the outskirts of the city near an old, abandoned train station since that was where the group around Markus was hiding in his novel. Connor looked around the place everywhere, hoping that this detail would be the same as in his book but after two hours he came up empty and had to realise that Markus and the others definitely weren’t hiding here.

With a heavy sigh, Connor climbed into a rusty train waggon for a break, his feet dangling off the edge while he pulled a foil-wrapped sandwich out of his backpack. He had no idea where to go from here, where else to look but he refused to give up after only one attempt, one lead.

Even if his life consisted mostly of reading and writing other people’s stories, Connor knew that giving up that easily never brought you anywhere. It applied to fictional stories as well as to real life.

Connor took the second bite of his sandwich when he suddenly heard a growling sounds and his heart was up in his throat right away because that couldn’t mean anything good. He swallowed nervously and looked around but it didn’t take too long until he spotted the animal that was definitely growling at him, fixing him with cold eyes and sharp teeth. It was a bobcat and Connor briefly wondered how the animal even got here before realising that the chance of it being a shapeshifter was pretty high—they could be almost any animal in his novel as well, after all.

“I don’t mean you any harm,” Connor said despite knowing that he wasn’t even in a position to harm the animal in any way. He couldn’t exactly knock the bobcat unconscious with a half-eaten sandwich. As expected, the animal wasn’t exactly impressed by his words and slowly stalked closer, looking like it was ready to pounce up into the wagon and end Connor any second now.

The young author had never thought about how he might kick the bucket one day but _lynched by a bobcat_ certainly wouldn’t be at the top of the list. Connor considered if he would be quick enough to get up and slam the rusty door of the train wagon shut before the bobcat could attack but the chance for success was slim to none.

“You’re a shapeshifter, right? I swear I’m not here to cause anyone harm. I’m looking for a friend,” he tried again because talking to the animal was his only option but it didn’t seem to be working in his favour since the growling only got louder and the bobcat lowered its torso, clearly getting ready to jump.


	8. Foolish Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to plan the story some more and wrote down summaries for the upcoming chapters so it might just be 15 chapters if everything goes according to my current plan.   
> There's still enough to come if it turns out to be true :)

“North!” A voice suddenly called out and the bobcat finally averted its attention from Connor to look off to the side to where the male voice had come from. A young man stepped into the author’s field of view, wearing a slightly baggy hoodie, his jeans and shoes a little dirty. “What are you doing? Stop attacking people for no reason!”

The bobcat— _North?_ The name sounded familiar...—huffed in annoyance and sent a glare in Connor’s direction before its appearance started to change and the person shifted back into a human.

“Oh,” Connor exhaled and at the same time as he realised that this was the woman Markus and he had helped against that guy in the alleyway one time, he also noticed that she was completely naked after shifting back. _Obviously_ , since it had been the same whenever Markus had changed back but Connor felt more awkward about being faced with a naked woman and he quickly averted his eyes after already having seen way much more than he had ever wanted.

“Are you okay? Sorry for that, North isn’t too fond of humans and tends to overreact,” the man now addressed Connor with a lopsided little smile and his expression was slightly wary. He didn’t quite seem to be eager about meeting Connor either, clearly not trusting him as well, but at least he was still being polite and the young author appreciated that.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he replied and slipped off the edge of the waggon he had been sitting on. The man watched his every movement, clearly cautious but there was nothing hostile about his expression so that was something.

“My name is Josh,” the other man introduced himself and after a moment of hesitation, he surprisingly offered his hand for Connor to shake.

The young author smiled a little and took the offered hand right away, glad that this Josh seemed to grand him the benefit of the doubt instead of completely distrusting him like North did. “I’m Connor. Nice to meet you?”

It ended up sounding like a question since Connor wasn’t too sure if the other man would describe this encounter as _nice_ but one corner of Josh’s mouth quirked up into the hint of a polite smile and he counted that as a win.

“Stop talking to that guy, Josh. He’s just another asshole that wants us dead,” North growled as she stepped back towards them, currently buttoning up a shirt she got from God-knows-where. “They’re all the same. Trust them and they’ll try to kill you by the end of the week.”

Now, Connor didn’t know what terrible things she had gone through in her life but it still seemed pretty harsh to just expect every human to be the same. He was about to protest and tell the woman that killing anyone was by far the last thing on his to-do-list when the voice of another man interrupted Josh from replying.

“Connor, is that you?”

His head snapped around at the sound of the familiar voice and his heart started thumping frantically for a whole different reason now.

Connor had already known that Markus was still alive but knowing it and seeing the other man were two very different things. There he stood, definitely alive, his heterochromatic eyes widened in surprise and Connor barely registered the slightly tattered state of the other’s outfit.

“What are you doing here?” Markus asked after a brief moment of stunned silence and Connor suddenly felt the need to punch the other in his stupidly perfect face.

“What am _I_ doing here?! I think a more important question would be _why haven’t you tried to contact your father to tell him you’re still alive_?! We thought you were dead! And now you show up here and ask _me_ what I’m doing here?!” Connor hadn’t meant to raise his voice that sounded a pitch higher than usual but Markus just showed up, acting all casual as if they were old schoolmates running into one another in the supermarket.

“Because it would have been too dangerous. If the police knew I’m still alive and contacted Carl, they would molest him to find out where I am, no matter if he knew about my whereabouts,” Markus replied calmly and Connor felt his fingers curl into fists, his eyes narrowing at the other young man.

“And breaking into a store to steal shit, getting caught on camera, certainly helps to keep the police from finding out about that, huh?” Connor asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm and he tried to ignore that he wasn’t just angry on Carl’s behalf but mostly because of his own stupid attachment to the shapeshifter and the pain he had felt while thinking the other was really dead.

“We needed food and clothes—some of us have been hiding from people for months; a few of them are close to starving and injured. I’d rather steal than watch anyone die an unnecessary and cruel death,” Markus replied without hesitation and Connor felt like he had been slapped in the face because he honestly hadn’t thought of that. He should have, though, since that was also the reason Markus had accidentally ended up starting a revolution in his novel—the other man had simply wanted to help people to the best of his abilities, lessen their pain and suffering.

“Could you guys give us a moment? I need to talk to Connor,” Markus now said, addressing Josh and North. While the latter looked sourly back at him and was clearly about to protest, Josh immediately replied a “Sure” and didn’t even question Markus’ decision. He ushered North to get going, ignoring her curses at humanity and Markus’ stupidity.

“Head back to Jericho, I’ll catch up with you,” Markus called after them before stepping up to the waggon Connor had been sitting on earlier, easily jumping up onto it to take a seat at the edge and patting the spot next to him.

Connor huffed softly under his breath but caught himself automatically following the silent invitation right away. He even took Markus’ offered hand, letting himself get pulled up next to the other man and dangling his legs over the edge as well. He was sitting close enough for their shoulders to almost brush and Connor was pretty sure he was just imagining to feel the heat radiating off of Markus’ body.

“I’m sorry I didn’t contact either of you. I was pretty close to dying for a few days but the others found me and patched me up again. My first instinct as soon as I was back on my feet was to get home or at least make sure you guys were okay but I knew the police didn’t harm you. Carl and you are human, they were no threat to you and I didn’t want to risk changing that,” the other man explained calmly while looking ahead at the abandoned train station, the rusted wrecks of other waggons all around them.

“How are you even still alive? Believe me, I’m glad about it but...it shouldn’t be possible. I saw you get shot multiple times.” Connor ignored the way his voice became a little rougher at the memory of seeing Markus shot down by the cops and then literally dragging his supposed corpse out the door.

“As you may have noticed, I’m not entirely human,” Markus pointed out with some put-upon amusement in his voice, clearly trying to lighten the mood but knowing it wouldn’t be very successful. “Like I said, I was close to dying and if it wasn’t for the others...I wouldn’t be here right now. Thanks to them and our bodies’ ability to heal a lot faster than regular humans I’m still alive.”

Connor’s stomach twisted at the thought that he had been right, that Markus had still been alive and had been in need of help but he hadn’t been able to be the one to provide said help. Maybe he had given up too soon and should have looked all over the city to figure out where the cops discarded the bodies of shapeshifters.

“I went to the police station to find out what they did to you,” Connor admitted, not even sure why he felt the need to say this as if that fact made any difference but he still wanted Markus to know that he had tried _something_. “The cop I talked to told me they had gotten rid of your body; not how or where, though. I didn’t know where to look.”

Connor stared ahead despite feeling Markus shift next to him, the other’s gaze resting on his face now rather than their surroundings and the young author felt his heart skip an unnecessary beat, absently wondering if the other man was able to hear it with his heightened senses.

“You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

The words weren’t unexpected and Connor had hoped they would make him feel better but it was quite the opposite. He had so much to be guilty about, actually. But he was too chicken-shit to say so, to tell Markus the truth. While it had been oddly easy to open up to Carl and tell him about the whole ‘I’m apparently stuck in my own novel’ situation, it was that much harder to even think about telling Markus.

“You barely even know me—going to the police to ask about me was already more than anyone else would have done in your place,” Markus added with an audible smile and Connor couldn’t believe this guy was still being so soft and kind, after everything that had been done to him over the past few weeks alone.

“I guess so,” was all Connor muttered in return, not wanting to say too much otherwise he might blurt out something he definitely didn’t want Markus to know. The _I like you_ was sitting at the tip of his tongue, unexpectedly and accompanied by a rush of emotions but the young author swallowed them down. It was no use anyway.

“How is Carl doing?” Markus asked after a moment of silence had settled over them and there was obvious worry in his voice that rugged at Connor’s heartstring.

“He’s worried about you,” the young author answered without hesitation and finally averted his eyes from the scenery to look at Markus. “I’m not gonna lie, he was doing really bad after what happened. He’s mentally better now that he knows you’re alive but physically...not that much.”

“What about Leo, is he—did he— _did I_ —?” Markus struggled with the question and it took Connor a moment to realise what it was the other was asking.

_Is he still alive? Did he die that day? Did I kill him?_

Connor remembers the scarily big puddle of blood that had been pooling under Leo’s head after Markus had pushed him to the ground, not meaning to hurt Carl’s biological son. He had been sure Leo was dead as well and it was bordering on a miracle that he was still alive. Connor realised that Markus must have thought he was responsible for Leo’s death all these days and it probably played into him not contacting Carl as well. He was scared to be rejected by the man he considered his father for having accidentally killed his actual son.

“He’s alive. He was in a coma for a few days but he woke up and while the doctors can’t yet tell if the head injury will leave any lasting damage, he will definitely make it,” the young author said and before he could stop himself, he reached out to place his hand against Markus’ lower arm in a soothing gesture. “Carl isn’t angry for what happened. He knows you didn’t want to harm Leo—that it was just an accident.”

Connor could see and feel some of the tension bleeding out of Markus’ body and maybe he was just imagining it, but the other also seemed to slightly lean into his touch.

“Did he actually say that or do you just want me to feel better?”

“He didn’t say these exact words but he did give me a message for you when I left to look for you after we found out you’re still alive. He said, and I quote: _tell him I love him. That he’s my son and I’ll support him, no matter what_. So, I think that makes it pretty obvious he doesn’t blame you for what happened.”

Markus’ head had snapped around to look at him at the mention of Carl having a message for him and the message itself caused his heterochromatic eyes to widen. Connor was pretty the other was even struggling with holding back tears, judging by the way he blinked quickly for a few times while averting his gaze again.

“He said that?” Markus’ voice sounded unexpectedly small and Connor gently squeezed the other’s lower arm, resisting the sudden urge to wrap his arms around the other man.

“He did,” Connor confirmed softly and they just sat there for what felt like forever—Markus, lost in his thoughts and staring at the ground in front of the waggon, Connor with his hand on the other’s lower arm, alternating between watching the other man and their surroundings.

“Would you mind coming with me, to meet the others properly?” Markus suddenly asked after maybe ten or even twenty minutes of silence and Connor almost flinched because he hadn’t expected the other man to speak up. He glanced at the shapeshifter, surprise and confusion probably clear as day on his face.

“You do realise that you barely know me, right?” The young author asked, echoing the words Markus had used earlier, and while he wouldn’t mind getting to know the people who had literally saved Markus’ life—well, North pretty much hated him by default, apparently, but Josh definitely seemed like a nice guy—he wasn’t too sure if it was a smart idea to follow the other to the ‘secret hideout’ if that was even the plan.

Markus actually laughed at his reply and slid off the edge of the waggon now, brushing his knuckles against Connor’s knee in a playful, friendly gesture that managed to make the young author’s heart skip a beat.

“I’m aware but I happen to be pretty good at reading people and I’m fairly certain you’re one of the good guys,” Markus announced with a smile that had no right to be this beautiful and while Connor was glad he had been able to cheer the other man up again, he was definitely even more worried about the state of his own heart in this whole scenario. Maybe it hadn’t been too smart on his part to go look for Markus and get even deeper into this mess of feelings…

He still gave in to Markus with a fond eye roll, sliding off the edge of the waggon as well. “Alright but if North, or anyone else, tries to maul me again, that’s on you.”

“Don’t worry about her, she’s actually pretty nice.”

“Somehow, I have my doubts about that,” Connor muttered and bumped his shoulder into Markus’ when the other laughed at that.

“Okay, she always suggests to attack humans and pay them back for what they did to us but, that aside, she is a good person,” Markus added with a lopsided grin while he started walking to lead the way to wherever they were headed to meet the others.

“Is that supposed to be reassuring? _She’s a good person aside from wanting to attack humans_ , sure thing.” He raised his eyebrows at Markus and had already decided to avoid leaving Markus’ side, just to make sure he wouldn’t end up alone with North. Better safe than sorry.

“Okay, I admit that doesn’t sound nice or good at all,” Markus laughed and then shrugged, “I hope she’ll learn soon enough that not all humans are the way she experienced it. Until then, I’ll make sure she doesn’t maul you, I promise.”

“My hero,” Connor deadpanned with another eye roll even though he had to admit to himself that he did like the sound of Markus wanting to protect him. Really, who would actually mind when _someone like that_ wanted to protect them, even if it was certainly more of a joke than anything? Connor was really developing quite the problem here…

“So...who is taking care of Carl now? If he’s not doing well,” Markus interrupted the author’s thoughts and Connor was definitely glad he didn’t blush easily because that would have been awkward to explain. _Oh, I was just worried about the crush I’m developing on you, all is well_. How about no?

“There is a new caretaker. He’s been around ever since the day it happened. His name is Luther and he’s really great, Carl is definitely in good hands with him,” Connor said with a smile and he hoped Markus would believe him that there was no need to worry about his father when it came to this. Luther was definitely a capable caretaker and gentle man, probably the second best choice after Markus himself, as far as Connor could tell.

“I’m glad. I feel awful about not being there for him. I really hope all of this will change soon enough and that I will be able to go back home,” the other man sighed with slightly slumped shoulders. The change of topic had immediately shifted Markus’ mood again, understandably, and Connor’s fingers itched to reach out once more but this time he didn’t give in to the urge.

“It’s not like you have a choice. I’m sure Carl knows you’d be there if you could,” he replied softly and then realised the second part of what the other man had said. “What do you mean by that? How are things supposed to change?”

Obviously, Connor already knew the answer to that question but he couldn’t exactly admit that since he still wanted to avoid talking about the truth. He’d have to tell Markus sooner rather than later but right now really wasn’t the time. At least, Connor told himself that and maybe it was just another result of him being a coward but he accepted that title already—when it came to this matter, anyway.


	9. Among the Fallen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was afraid I wouldn't get this chapter done in time but I managed to write most of it today so here we go. One day later than intended but it's slightly longer than the other chapters so that might make up for a day more of waiting.

“Why did you bring him here?! This is our only save space,” North said as soon as Connor stepped through the door of the rusty old freighter called _Jericho_. She glared at the author and Connor almost expected her to attack him but Markus was positioned half in between them so that was at least some comfort.

“North, would you stop it already? Connor is a friend, we can trust him. _I_ trust him,” Markus replied firmly and it was obvious he was already taking over the position of the leader, that much was clear.

Connor tried to not think too much about the other man’s words and how convincing Markus sounded when he announced that he trusted Connor. They barely knew each other as they had already established on their way here.

“You’re way too soft on humans. They almost killed you and yet you still defend them and want to do right by them while all they do is enslave, abuse and kill us!” North replied and she was clearly not in the mood to back down from her standpoint.

Meeting her in person, Connor had to admit that North was even fiercer than he had imagined while writing her and he definitely understood her behaviour if she had been through the similar kind of sexual abuse as in the novel. And, once again, Connor had to realise that this was his own doing. She had been assaulted and abused because he had written her storyline that way and while he had never made light of the horrible things she had gone through, it was still sickening to think about, now that she was a real person in front of him and not just a fictional character on a piece of paper.

“North, that’s enough!” Markus raised his voice a little, clearly done with listening to her arguments against humans. “Don’t you realise that this way of thinking is exactly what got our kind into this situation? This is the way a lot of humans think about us and it’ll get no better if we start treating them the same! You can’t try to cure a sickness with another sickness.”

Connor hadn’t written this particular dialogue but the Markus in his novel had said similar things. It was still very impressive to hear it actually said out loud, especially because of the strong conviction in Markus’ voice. Connor was sure that, no matter how many differences to his writing this might have, the fact that the other man would take an entirely pacifistic approach to this revolution would remain. Whether this would turn out to be a good or bad choice was a different story.

*******

“Markus mentioned that you’re literally from a different universe,” Josh said conversationally, with a tone that people would usually adapt when talking about the weather, not about (accidental) interdimensional travel or whatever else had brought Connor here.

The knowledge that this was his book made Connor wonder if he was really _in the book_ or if this was a parallel universe. How could it be the latter, though? It would mean he had written about something he didn’t even know existed. It would explain the difference, though. Because if he was actually in his own novel, everything happening should be exactly the same, right? Though he wasn’t supposed to be in the story so his presences might have messed it up.

Connor was pretty sure he would end up breaking his brain if he continued to try and find a logical explanation for something that shouldn’t be possible in the first place.

“I know it sounds crazy,” he sighed and while he liked Josh and Simon so far, was thankful for them showing him around Jericho while Markus was still trying to reason with North and talk sense into her, he kind of didn’t feel like having this particular conversation.

“People discriminating against others for being and looking different sounds crazy as well but it’s still very much real,” Simon pointed out with a shrug and Connor figured that people living in a world where magic existed were understandably more open to such things than the people in his own world.

“Interesting comparison,” Connor replied with a crooked smile but he couldn't deny that the other man was right about this.

“So, what’s your world like?” Josh now asked and it was clearly out of curiosity, not just because it was a logical question to follow up with.

“It’s mostly like this one, actually, that’s why I didn’t even notice I’m not home at first,” Connor answered after thinking briefly about how to reply to this question but he figured sticking to the truth was never wrong—as much as possible without revealing the novel aspect of said truth. “There is no magic, though. And no shapeshifters.”

“He took that part surprisingly well, though,” Markus’ voice suddenly added to their conversation and the other man turned around the corner to join them on their little tour through Jericho. His shoulders still seemed a little tense, showing that his conversation with North probably hadn’t gone too well, but his lips were curled up into the hint of a smile and his heterochromatic eyes had a soft expression. “Except for the initial shock but it wore off quite fast. I would have expected a worse reaction.”

Connor narrowed his eyes a little at the almost teasing tone in Markus’ voice and huffed softly under his breath.

“The shock was mostly due to the fact that you started stripping in front of me without any explanation,” he pointed out and that definitely had been a small part of his shock. Not that he had actually minded the view, in hindsight, but Connor was not about to admit to _that_.

“You...what?” Simon asked and then burst out laughing, causing Connor’s cheeks to suddenly heat up, mostly because he had been briefly distracted by the memory of Markus’ very naked body.

 _He’s just a fictional character, get over it!_ Connor reprimanded himself and blinked the memories away from his inner eyes, watching how Simon slapped his hand onto Markus’ shoulder who looked actually something akin to flustered as well.

“I had to show him what I am to make him believe it! If I had just told him I can turn into an animal, knowing such things don’t exist in his world, he would have thought I’m crazy,” Markus explained with an almost sulky expression because Simon and Josh were both still grinning in obvious amusement about this little story about their great leader.

“And the reasonable thing to do was undress in front of a stranger who probably thought you were about to do God knows what?” Josh teased and Connor was very sure he could now see an actual hint of pink on Markus’ cheeks who pressed his lips together, bottom lip jutting out the smallest bit.

“Why did I decide to befriend you guys again?” He wondered out loud and the other two simultaneously said “Desperation” before they started laughing again and Connor felt his own lips twitch up in amusement. His eyes met Markus’ when the other man glanced over, shrugging slightly at Connor before mirroring the little smile.

It kind of warmed Connor’s heart to see how these guys got along, that they were actual friends already and it made him feel momentarily a little less terrible about being responsible for all of this. In his novel, it had taken the Jericho group quite a bit longer to fall together and become friends—more of a family, really—but the young author couldn’t deny that he enjoyed this change in his story.

“So, North…” Josh started after they had all sobered up from their little banter and Markus’ expression darkened a small bit before he made a dismissive gesture.

“She’ll come around,” was all he replied and Connor cringed inwardly because that didn’t sound too positive. She already hated humans quite a bit in his story but it seemed to be even worse here. Not that the humans that had abused her didn’t deserve every single ounce of hate the woman had for them. Connor surely deserved it as well, in his opinion, but he bit his tongue and merely shrugged a little.

“I’m sure she has her reasons,” he offered, pretending to not know the kind of pain North had gone through in the past and smiling a little at Markus to show he was okay, that he didn’t hold it against North.

*******

“That’s madness,” Simon started and leant back in his chair, regarding everyone in the small room with a disapproving expression and Connor was definitely on his side with this, for various reasons. “You think the people would think of us as less of animals if we went around to vandalise their stuff?”

“We’re not going to vandalise. We’re going to free our people,” Markus replied with an unhappy expression after having explained himself multiple times already, clearly fed-up with the fact that some of his friends weren’t eagerly on board with his idea. “We can’t expect to change things by just sitting on the sidelines, only stealing necessary goods every once in a while. We have to show them that we deserve the same rights as them, that we want to be _free_. We can’t do that by hiding here.”

“He’s right, you know. No change has ever been achieved by avoiding confrontation,” Josh sided with their leader and smiled a little at the thankful nod Markus directed at him.

North was standing in the background, arms crossed in front of her chest and expression dark, glowering at Connor every now and then to show him how much she hated his presence during their meeting.

“I get that and I get that we have to take risks if we do want to change our situation but don’t you think that smashing windows and freeing others might lead to people feeling even more threatened?” Simon asked and tilted his head. He clearly wasn’t opposed to taking action but this way to go about it obviously didn’t sit right with him.

Connor was fully with him on this, even though he rather kept his mouth shut because it wasn’t his place to decide along since it wasn’t exactly his fight so he kept quiet and watched everything unfold with an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

“They should feel threatened!” North spoke up for the first time in about ten minutes and she stepped further into the room, voice quiet and angry. “They threatened us for decades, centuries even. We should show them what that feels like and make them understand that we’re not backing down anymore!”

“We’re not going to threaten them but we will show them that we’re not their toys to treat as they please,” Markus interjected, unsurprisingly not on board with North’s more aggressive approach and she huffed at him in annoyance.

“After everything they did to you, you continue to be so goddamn soft on our oppressors. They don’t deserve us being nice to them because they’ve never treated us that way either!”

Markus sighed and turned around, his expression hard and determined. He clearly wasn’t about to back down and Connor felt his heart skip the smallest beat at the uncalled-for thought that the other man looked quite hot like this.

“North, we won’t attack the humans or treat them the way they’ve treated us for the past centuries. We can’t fight violence with more violence, that’s only going to harden both fronts more and make the situation escalate further,” Markus replied calmly but with a firm voice as if telling a  young child off for doing something wrong and explaining why what they did was wrong.

“If your intention is to start a full-on war, this isn’t the right place,” he added. “I won’t fight or hurt anyone if I can help it. I’m going to lead a peaceful protest, try to make our voices get heard, but I refuse to _attack_ the humans. We can’t right a wrong with another wrong. That has never worked and will never work. An eye for an eye and the world goes blind.”

Connor’s eyes widened a small bit because he had written almost the exact same sentence in his book like the last phrase Markus’ had just said. It was weird, hearing his words said out loud by his own protagonist and it sent an odd, tingly sensation down his spine, causing his heart to beat a small bit faster.

Markus had definitely managed to deliver the line so much better than Connor could have ever imagined—the words rolling off his tongue with a smooth, convicted voice and determined expression. He didn’t just say the words, he meant and felt them as well. Connor could definitely see why the other man was basically born to become a leader for such a great cause.

“But they won’t take us seriously otherwise!” North kept on refusing to accept Markus’ angle, dead set on a literal fight instead of one through peaceful actions and, most importantly, words.

“We will make them take us seriously but not in the way you want to. Not every human wronged us and not every human is against us”—Markus motioned to Connor who felt a little bit put on the spot with everyone looking at him all of a sudden, quirking an awkward little smile for a lack of a better reaction—”we can’t punish everyone for the wrongdoing of others. That wouldn’t make us any better than those we try to prove wrong.”

“He’s right, North,” Josh added tentatively and shrugged when North’s head snapped around to glance at him for siding with Markus. “Sure, it might be tempting to make them feel what we felt but where’s the justice in that? I wouldn’t feel better about being mistreated by mistreating others. I just want to live, free and happy. I don’t want to build my future on the pain of others, no matter what they did to me. We’re only going to lose ourselves if we take a violent approach.”

North literally growled under her breath now and, realising nobody in the room was going to side with her, she turned around and angrily stormed out of the room. Even Connor could hear her steps stomp down the hallway and echoing off the metal walls of the freighter for several minutes.

“ _She’ll come around_ , huh?” Connor asked and quickly bit his tongue because he hadn’t meant to say that bit out loud. He grinned sheepishly when the others looked at him, everyone thoroughly unimpressed and obviously thinking his comment was uncalled for. The young author felt his cheeks heat up and he muttered a soft “Sorry” before sinking further back into the uncomfortable chair he was sitting on while the conversation steered back to planning a protest, now that North wasn’t around to complain about their every idea.

*******

The peaceful protest had gone over pretty well, even though a few of the shapeshifters had gotten hurt and three had even been killed but the protest had definitely left quite the great impact. Connor had followed the events on the news since Markus had basically ordered him to stay in the safety of Jericho and he had been quite scared about the others when the newscaster had announced the police arriving on the scene.

A few of the Jericho people had been killed by cops but when Markus had been offered the opportunity to kill the cops in return—North being at the forefront of prompting him to pull the trigger after pushing the gun into their leader’s hand—he had lowered the firearm right away. A lot of the news were mostly concerned about what all of this meant but there were a few reports about Markus’ action as well, about his decision to spare the cops instead of shedding their blood in revenge for the lives taken that day.

“Why are so many broadcasters still turning this against us? We were the ones being shot at, our people have been hurt and killed, but somehow they still think we’re the ones doing the wrong thing,” Markus sighed while sitting down on the ratty old couch next to Connor, glowering at the screen where a reporter was currently talking about how dangerous all of this could become for humans if they didn’t act against the shapeshifters right away.

“Because that’s the way humans are. Those that are privileged and oppressing others always try to turn things around and paint themselves as the victims,” Connor replied and looked at the other man who seemed tired and looked a little bit lost, with slumped shoulders and a frown on his handsome face while regarding the news about their protest from a few hours ago. “It’s not your fault they purposefully try to misunderstand your actions. You did the right thing.”

“But it feels like I could have done it better,” the leader sighed and leant back now, his broad shoulders causing his upper arm to brush against Connor’s but he made no attempt at moving away or break the slight contact. Connor didn’t move away either. He barely resisted the urge to lean even closer.

“Let them calm down for a bit and take time to think up a new plan. I’m sure you’ll come up with a way to prove to them that nothing you did was to cause a threat to anyone,” Connor suggested softly and his fingers itched to reach out, to brush against the rough material of Markus’ jeans and rest against the other man’s thigh. He intertwined his fingers in his lap to keep himself from acting upon this sudden urge.

“Plus, you promised to help me find that sorcerer Simon mentioned earlier,” he added with a tentative smile and Connor didn’t want to seem selfish by pushing his own cause onto the other man when Markus had so much more important things to take care of. Still, the young author had talked to Simon before everyone left for the protest and the other had told him about this powerful sorcerer by the name of Kaminski—or something along those lines—and Markus had been the one to suggest trying to find that guy when the protest was over.

Part of the reason for Connor to bring this up right away was also the fact that he knew the next step or at least the direction this revolution would be headed after this protest and maybe he was selfish for hoping to get out of here before more terrible things would happen.

“I know I did and I’m going to help you. I’ll keep my promise, don’t worry. But I need to set this right first instead of giving the people more time to misinterpret our actions,” Markus replied and tilted his head to look at Connor with an apologetic expression and the young author almost gave in without a second thought.

The other man’s pretty eyes and gorgeous face made it quite impossible to refuse him anything which was...worrisome. Even more reason for Connor to find a way back to his own world before he ended up doing something stupid—like grabbing Markus’ face and kiss him. That wouldn’t be helpful and would only make it this much harder to leave but he _had to_ get back to his own world, not stay in his own novel, falling hopelessly for a man that wasn’t even real in the first place.

“Markus, I have to get back. I can’t just stay missing from my own world for even longer and now that I know there’s someone who might be able to help me get back...I can’t keep on sitting on my ass doing nothing,” Connor said and hoped his voice conveyed that he had made up his mind, that he wasn’t willing to wait even more days or weeks until taking action.

“I know that and, like I said, I’m going to help you but I need maybe two more days, okay? I have to talk to the public and set this right.”

“Markus...how do you even want to do that? How are you going to come up with a plan in a day and execute it?” Connor knew the answer, of course, but part of him hoped it would be another difference to his novel and maybe, maybe Markus had a safer plan in this version.

“The radio tower,” Markus said and Connor’s heart sunk in his chest right away. _Oh no…_ “I have to get in there and get a proper message out to the people. To talk to them and tell them that we don’t mean any harm, that we want freedom without taking it with violence.”

“That’s...no. That’s way too dangerous,” Connor interjected right away, unable to help himself because he had to think of how that had gone down in his novel.

 

_Markus, Josh and North stood on the roof of the radio tower in the middle of Detroit, their faces twisted with worry and regret as they looked at a pale, bloodied Simon sitting against a wall in the gravel._

_“I won’t kill one of our own,” Markus announced, lowering the gun in his hand and flipping it around to offer then handle for Simon to take. The other man wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and took the gun, his expression pensive but thankful._

_“Let’s go!” Josh called out and already handed a parachute backpack to both Markus and North. Everyone equipped the backpack, fastening it to their backs, before glancing back at the hurt Simon once more. Neither of them wanted to leave their dear friend behind but Simon wasn’t even able to walk, how would he ever be able to manage to jump off the building with a parachute?_

_Shooting him might have been the merciful option but their cause had already shed enough blood of their people as it was. Plus, Markus didn’t feel like he had the right to make this decision. All he could do was leave Simon with the gun and the decision to either stay and fight or end it himself. It was Simon’s life, it was his decision what to do with it in the face of this dire situation._

_There was no time to say proper goodbyes as the door to the roof burst open and the three ran up to the edge of the roof while Simon had already managed to drag his body out of the line of sight, hopefully able to find cover somewhere. Markus felt horrible as he jumped over the small railing, jumping down the Stratford Tower while leaving one of his best and closest friends behind._

 

In his novel, Simon somehow managed to survive and show up in Jericho again later on, even though Connor never explained how he got back down and out of the tower—he was fully aware that this was quite the plothole but he honestly didn’t care because he liked Simon and didn’t have the heart to actually kill him. The readers had pointed out the flaw but most of them had been happy about it anyway since Simon was one of the fan favourites.

Still, there was no guarantee that Simon would survive the infiltration of the radio tower here and Connor couldn’t just let it play out. He had been lucky when it came to Carl surviving the incident in the mansion but Connor refused to take such a chance again. He had to convince Markus to take another approach to address the people.

“I know it’s a big risk but I have to take it. It’s the best way to get through to a lot of people quickly,” Markus replied and nodded to himself, clearly having his mind set on the idea already and Connor’s stomach twisted uneasily.

“Would you also say that if you knew doing this meant risking the life of one of your friends?” Connor heard himself ask before he could come up with anything else to say and he cringed inwardly when Markus glanced at him with confusion.

“Why would you say that?”

“You didn’t plan on going there by yourself, did you? And taking even one of the others would mean endangering not only yourself but them as well. I don’t think it’ll be easy to get into the tower but if you do, how are you planning on getting out of there again? Walking in the door somehow might be manageable but you sure as hell won’t be able to walk out the same way after broadcasting whatever speech you plan on giving.”

“I know that but why did you sound like you _know_ something?” Markus replied and the young author refused to flinch at the question.

“I don’t. The only thing I know is that the probability of everyone getting out of there unharmed and alive is pretty damn slim,” Connor explained, hoping it would sound reasonable enough for Markus to not question his statement further but the other’s expression turned even more suspicious now.

“Connor,” he said and there was something almost like a warning in his smooth voice, tone dropping a little and Connor swallowed, unable to keep himself from breaking eye contact with the other man and that was enough to make Markus believe him even less. “What is it? What do you know? And don’t try to hoax me into believing that you only said this based on something that might happen.”

“I—I really can’t tell you. You wouldn’t believe me or, if you did, you’d probably hate me,” the young author said and hated how small his voice sounded all of a sudden. He was about to fuck everything up and there was no way back at this point. “Just, believe me that you should take a different approach. Stay away from the radio tower.”

“Right now, you’re not exactly giving me much of a reason to believe anything you say.”

The words kind of stung and Connor bit his bottom lip, wrecking his brain for _anything_ to say but there was nothing. There was nothing but the truth left to be told, hoping it might at least change Markus’ plan. Connor shouldn’t be selfishly protecting his early friendship with the other man over the life of someone else. Sacrificing their friendship might save Simon’s life and maybe it would also be for the better. If Markus hated him, it would be easier to leave this world behind…

“This isn’t just a parallel universe,” Connor breathed while staring at his hands that were intertwined in his lap, “I told you that I’m an author and...somehow...I ended up in one of the books I’ve written. All of this—I wrote about it. I created everything here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One cliffhanger to go, ready and served :D  
> Sorry, I just had to. Where'd be the fun if I covered that part in this chapter already, right? 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this part and while I'm always in the comments thanking you guys for them: thank you, everyone, for sticking around, commenting, leaving kudos and just for reading my story—it really means a lot! ♥  
> I appreciate each and every one of you, no matter if you leave a comment or not :) You're all equally amazing and I hope you're having a great weekend ♥


	10. No Way Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the story is coming along nicely and I'm quite happy with how everything is working out. Maybe I will actually manage to fit chapter 13 into everything properly since I've got that one finished for at least a month now. Keep your fingers crossed. You'll love and hate that one, I think.
> 
> But for now, this chapter is where we're at and it's headed towards drama territory for the time being because we gotta keep that slow burn thing up, amirit?

>  “This isn’t just a parallel universe,” Connor breathed while staring at his hands that were intertwined in his lap, “I told you that I’m an author and...somehow...I ended up in one of the books I’ve written. All of this—I wrote about it. I created everything here.”

“Right. Sure,” Markus replied after a beat of silence and these two words alone already managed to convey that the other didn’t believe a single word of what he had just said. “So, I’m going to go plan how to go about getting into the radio tower now, if you don’t mind.”

Connor couldn’t deny that it hurt how Markus dismissed his words so easily and apparently thought he was trying to make stupid jokes in a time like this. He raised his eyes and saw that Markus had gotten up from the couch, ready to leave the room.

“I’m telling you the truth. This is why I haven’t said anything because I knew you wouldn’t believe,” he breathed, knowing that even if he spoke with a soft voice Markus would easily be able to hear him. “Carl believed me.”

Why he chose to point that out was beyond Connor but it had the desired effect of stopping Markus in his track. The other man tensed up momentarily and turned around on his heels, eyes narrowed.

“I doubt he would believe such nonsense. Really, Connor, you don’t have to tell me whatever the hell is going on but don’t try to bullshit me either. I meant what I said earlier—I trust you and do see you as a friend—but if you think you have to talk nonsense instead of being honest with me, you’re making me question my decision to trust you and bringing you here.”

Connor swallowed and the sudden shift in the atmosphere felt suffocating but now that he had started this particular conversation, he couldn’t exactly back down again or play it off as a joke. He didn’t expect Markus to keep on trusting him but he had to get the other man to at least believe his words to be true. Otherwise, this whole conversation was missing its sole point by several miles.

“It’s not bullshit. Believe me, I wish it was and I know how absolutely insane it sounds but its the truth. I wrote a novel called _Escape: Come Alive_ and its protagonist is called Markus who’s a shapeshifter. He turns into a wolf and—”

“I’m not a wolf,” Markus interrupted as if that was the information to focus on right now and Connor breathed out an annoyed huff.

“I know that. Things differ from the story I’ve written and I can’t figure out why that is but fact is, _you_ are that Markus from my book. You’re the Markus I wrote about. The one who almost got killed by cops only to rise back up and start a revolution to fight for the freedom of his people. The Markus who infiltrates the Stratford Tower to send a message to the humans about how his kind is not a threat and then escaped from the radio tower by jumping down with a parachute. The one who will have to leave Simon behind because he gets shot and is hurt too badly to make an escape. That’s why I’m telling you about this because if you go through with this plan, something bad will happen to Simon. It might not play out the same as in my book but I _know_ it will end badly one way or another.”

Markus was simply staring at him with disbelief but at least he was listening and that was at least worth something. It had to be. Connor took a deep breath after all of these words had poured out of him in an almost panicked rush, heart hammering away against his ribs and licking his dry lips.

“I wish none of this was true and I have no idea how this is happening but it’s the truth. I swear it is,” he added when Markus didn’t react and he barely resisted the urge to avert his eyes. Connor had to make sure the other man knew how serious he was about this, how this was not even close to a dumb joke. It was the, albeit sickening, truth.

“Explain to me, how can this be your book but still be different from it?” Markus finally asked, his voice having dropped a little in pitch to make it sound a little rougher, threatening almost. The leader of the revolution was clearly still not believing a word he said and he was actually starting to get angry, great. Connor was pretty damn sure that it was quite the difficult task to accomplish, getting Markus angry.

“ _I don’t know_. I don’t know how I got here, why or how this is happening. All I know is that this is the truth and it doesn’t even matter if you believe me or not but I’m _begging_ you to come up with something else. Don’t go to that tower, please. I don’t want anyone to get hurt or worse.”

Connor was a little overwhelmed by the realisation of how much he meant these words. It didn’t matter that this was technically all just fiction because it felt real enough to him and no matter if he only knew these people for a day—or a few weeks, in Markus’ case—he still already cared about them. He didn’t want Simon to get hurt. He didn’t want _anyone_ of these people to get hurt.

“Can you prove any of what you just told me is true?”

Now Markus was just being unfair. He knew that Connor couldn’t prove it. How could he? The only way to prove it would be by having a copy of his novel here and shove it into the other’s face but since that wasn’t the case…

“You know I can’t,” the young author replied weakly and it seemed like a lost cause to continue this argument. Markus wouldn’t believe him and the anger in his usually kind, heterochromatic eyes told Connor not to push it, not to challenge him. The other man was stressed out enough as it was, with the responsibility weighing his shoulders down, and Connor’s ill-timed realisation to finally come clean only made matters worse.

“Come find me whenever you decide to be actually honest with me or leave if you choose not to. I don’t care either way.” With that, Markus turned around and left the room, the door banging shut way too loudly and causing Connor to flinch.

He swallowed around the lump suddenly in his throat and while he had been prepared for this conversation to end badly, he hadn’t expected this outcome.

Still, he knew the last statement had been a lie. Markus cared. He cared way too much about everyone and everything. He cared about Connor and he had been hurt by this seeming proof that Connor wasn’t trustworthy.

“Fuck,” the young author breathed and scrubbed a hand across his face. He actually felt like crying right now but there was no time for getting emotional. At least he had tried to make a difference, right? He probably couldn’t have stopped this story from unfolding in a partly gruesome way anyway so...there was no point in feeling guilty or responsible, right?

He shook his head, trying to get his bearings back and ignoring the way his fingers shook a little when he reached for a dirty piece of paper and a pen that were lying around in the dingy, narrow room. Connor had to go and find that sorcerer, now more than ever. He had to get to his own world and not get hurt over hurting a fictional character. This had gone on for too long already and he was way out of his depth when it came to his current emotional state.

Maybe it was for the best that Markus wouldn’t accompany him on his journey to find that sorcerer…

*******

_Dear Markus,_

_I know you don’t believe me and there’s probably no way for me to change that. Still, I was telling you the truth even though I do hope that it won’t happen the way it does in my book. Maybe everyone will be fine. I hope it’s the case._

_I’m sorry about our fight but I figure it might even be for the best this way. Now, you can focus on the revolution and I can focus on finding my way back home. It’s not your responsibility to get me back to my world anyway and I’m sorry I tried to load it onto your shoulders as well when you’re carrying so much responsibility for other people already._

_No matter how confusing and unreal all of this has been to me, I’m still glad I was able to meet you and everyone else. You’re honestly even more amazing than I could have ever imagined and so much better of a person than I could have ever written you to be._

_Just...promise me you’ll be careful and don’t stray from your pacifistic approach, okay?_

_Take care,_

_Connor_

*******

Connor stared out of the bus’ window, heart unexpectedly heavy and stomach tied into uneasy knots about having left without a proper goodbye but the letter had to be enough. He hated to leave things like this, parting ways with Markus on a sour note with their kind-of fight but he couldn’t linger around, trying to make the other man understand that what he had said was the truth after all.

Still, none of this sat right with him and his fingertips drew absent patterns against the cool glass of the window until he dropped his hand into his lap. Simon had told him earlier that this Kamski guy was supposedly living in the north-west of Detroit and even though it was only speculation, it was as good a starting point as any other. So, he was currently headed in that direction, glad that Carl had pushed a few dollar bills into his hands before he had headed out, this way Connor was actually able to use public transportation and also buy food on the road instead of having to walk all the miles and beg for food.

Carl.

The young author mused if maybe he should call the old man, just to inform him about having found Markus and that the other’s adoptive son was alright. That he had delivered Carl’s message and that Markus was sorry for not being able to return home, for having caused his father grief and worry.

Yeah, he should definitely call Carl when he had to switch bus lines.

 

‘Where is he?’ Carl asked and his voice sounded worryingly weak.

“I think it’s probably best if you don’t know,” Connor replied apologetically and it wasn’t that he thought Carl would tell anyone but he knew it would be safer this way, especially for the old man himself. And it didn’t sound like Carl was in a state where he was able to make use of the location of Markus’ whereabouts anyway. It was an unnecessary risk.

‘Of course, you’re right. It was stupid of me to ask,’ Carl coughed and the deep hum of Luther’s voice could be heard in the background, even though Connor wasn’t able to catch what was being said. ‘Luther ordered me to end the call. Can you believe this guy?’

Carl didn’t sound angry, more fondly exasperated about his caretaker to order him around and Connor felt his lips twitch up into an amused smile while he leant against the side of the phone booth, fingertips of his free hand playing with the cord that should have a phonebook dangling at its end that was left frayed and empty by someone. Who the heck stole a damn phone book? People made no sense sometimes. A lot of the time.

“It’s okay. Luther is right, you should probably rest. I just wanted to make sure you know Markus is alright and to say goodbye. If everything goes well, I’ll be back home soon enough,” the young author said and he would even miss Carl, that much he already knew. At least he was able to properly say goodbye to the old man.

‘You’re headed north-west, you said? Towards the Leech Lake Indian Reservation?’

“I...guess so? I don’t know if that’s exactly where he’s hiding but maybe someone there can point me in the right direction. It’s the only lead I have so there’s not much of a choice.” He shrugged, despite Carl not being able to see the gesture and he heard the older man sigh, the sound cracking a little due to the questionable quality of the connection.

‘Take care of yourself, son, okay? Sorcery is no joke.’

“I know. I will be careful. You take care of yourself and take it easy, alright? And don’t worry too much about Markus, he’s too smart and strong to let this bring him to his knees.” Connor hated how sure he was of this fact and how undeniably fond he already sounded while talking about the other man. It was time to cut the ties and head back to his own world!

He told Carl to extend his greetings to Luther before they said their goodbyes and he hung up the receiver. Connor closed his eyes for a second, rubbing them with his fingertips before re-adjusting his glasses with a deep breath. Time to get back on the road and find that Kamski guy!

*******

The next bus took him almost until the edge of the city where Connor decided to spend the night in a cheap little motel. The next morning, while he was waiting for the intercity-bus to arrive and take him further towards his destination, his eyes were drawn to the huge electronic billboard on the other side of the road when the word _breaking news_ flashed across it.

Connor’s eyes widened when he read the headline about how a small group of people had infiltrated the Stratford Towers and broadcasted a message for everyone to see. The broadcast was shown after a newscaster had said a few words about the incident and now Markus’ unfairly handsome, determined face was filling the whole screen, looking directly into the camera with his heterochromatic eyes, basically staring right into the soul of everyone watching. At least that was what it felt like.

Connor’s heart skipped a beat in a mix of misplaced excitement about seeing the other man’s gorgeous face again and worry about the fact that Markus had actually gone through with his plan. But maybe it had all gone well?

That hope was quickly extinguished when the screen switched back to the newscaster and the small text running along the bottom of the screen told him that there had been a few casualties—two guards had been knocked unconscious and one of the _perpetrators_ had apparently been shot fatally.

He swallowed thickly and wondered who might have gotten shot. It couldn’t have been Markus because surely the news would have made a big announcement out of the fact that the leader and ‘main threat’ of the revolution had been dealt with. So that only left Josh, North or Simon. His heart hurt at either of these options and the knowledge that one of these people was actually dead now, not just hurt.

Neither of them had died in his story—not yet, at least. Connor didn’t even want to imagine how Markus must be feeling right now, having insisted on taking this action. The other man surely blamed himself now and part of Connor wished he hadn’t left, that he could be there to tell Markus that it wasn’t his fault.

“I’ve got to admit, the guy certainly has some balls,” a male voice next to him announced and Connor frowned a little because the voice sounded faintly familiar for some reason. Since he couldn’t place the voice, the young author tilted his head to look at the man and his heart seemed to skip a beat before hammering away at a nervous pattern.

“Detective Reed,” Connor choked out, not knowing if it was supposed to be a greeting or just him announcing that he remembered the asshole-cop. Somehow, the appearance of this guy out of nowhere threw him off and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. This couldn’t mean anything good, right?

“You remember, good. That saves me the trouble of re-introducing myself,” Gavin said and while he kept his voice light, his expression was scarily hostile, eyes boring into Connor’s with an almost disgusted tilt of his lips. “I’ll have to ask you to accompany me and I advise you to comply because I won’t ask nicely again.”

Connor didn’t point out that Gavin hadn’t asked in the first place and he wasn’t nice by any stretch of the word. He pressed his lips into a thin line, mind racing but coming up empty when it came to a plan on how to get out of this situation so Connor felt himself nod. Whatever Gavin wanted to take him in for, Connor sure as hell wouldn’t offer him any information about Markus so this asshole could shove his superior attitude where the sun didn’t shine, for all Connor cared.

It was only when they walked up to a rather beat up old car that Connor realised something was very off about all of this. Gavin was wearing his gun but no badge, the car was obviously not a police car either and something told him that the other man was not here on official business.

“Get in the car,” Gavin told him, opening the back door with enough force to make the frame creak in protest.

“Where are we going?” Connor asked, not moving an inch closer to the vehicle and his heart was in his throat as soon as Gavin’s hand reached out to rest against the gun on his side, casually flicking the safety off.

“It’s either the back seat or the trunk, your choice,” the man said with a dark voice and Connor felt like his blood ran cold with the obvious hint of hostility in Gavin’s voice.

He nodded jerkily and forced his suddenly stiff legs to move towards the car. When he ducked his head to climb onto the backseat, Gavin shoved him roughly to make Connor topple onto the musty smelling upholstery and then the door slammed shut with a scary finality.

_Well, fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahw, look who came out to play, it's douchebag #1.  
> And did anyone wish for another cliffhanger? No? Well, I'm feeling generous so there you go :D


	11. Save Yourself

Gavin clearly hadn’t shown up on official business and they also weren’t headed to the police station in the heart of the city but steering towards the outer parts of the city. Connor could see them closing in on a rather abandoned looking industrial district reminiscent of the train station where he had run into Markus again the other day. Whatever the cop was planning, there surely wasn’t anything legal about it.

“Where are we going and why?” Connor asked, proud that he managed to keep the insecure shaking in his voice to a minimum while somehow trying to memorise their route, just in case he did manage to escape and had to find his way back. How he was supposed to escape from a cop.

“You’ll see when we get there,” Gavin simply replied and then reached out to turn up the volume of the radio where more news about the infiltration of the radio tower was currently being announced.

Connor’s stomach twisted when he heard the newscaster talk about how they had at least managed to gun down one of the perpetrators as if it was fine to shoot down someone who was forced to go against the law in order to fight for their rights. They didn’t even talk about the shapeshifters as if they were human but more like they were monsters, rabid animals that had to be put down rather than people worth listening to.

“I wish they would have done that to all of them,” he heard Gavin mutter under his breath and saw the other man’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, the way he clenched his jaw in agitation.

Connor had already figured that Gavin’s hatred of shapeshifters was dialled up a notch in this version of his story from their short encounter after Markus’ supposed death but he hadn’t realised how bad it was until now. The guy was clearly out of his mind, blinded by disgust for other living beings based on the assumption that them being different made them less worthy of respect.

He bit his tongue to keep himself from starting an argument because that might actually end up getting him shot and Connor preferred not being left for dead in his own messed up story.

They drove for a little while longer until Gavin pulled over, driving the car through the open gate of a rather decrepit looking industrial building, some sort of assembly hangar by the looks of the rusty, old machines lining the walls of the building. The ground was covered in dust, dirt and even sand, crunching underneath the wheels of the car until it stopped a few feet into the hangar, leaving them in eery quiet for a moment.

“Out of the car and don’t try anything stupid or I’m going to put you down like the animals you associate with,” Gavin announced, pushing his own door open and simultaneously reaching for his gun to make it clear that he was not joking around.

Connor swallowed thickly and took a deep breath before shuffling to the side of the car, needing almost his whole body weight to push the creaky door open. He stumbled out of the car, his legs feeling a little stiff and knees wobbly. He had known that Gavin was an absolute bag of dicks but kidnapping someone was an unexpected low, even for him.

It seemed while some character had already been quite strong in their beliefs, they were even more extreme about them here and Connor wasn’t too sure if he liked that fact. He certainly didn’t like getting more acquaintanced with Gavin’s _beliefs_.

“So, are you going to tell me what this is all about now or did you bring me here to shoot me in the head? How did you even become a cop?” Connor asked, not able to suppress the snarky remark even in the face of a loaded gun now being pointed at him. His heart was in his throat, palms sweaty and lips pressed into a thin line to keep them from quivering.

Great, so this was how he’d go out? Shot by his own crappy character. The irony of this situation wasn’t lost on him.

“Sit down,” Gavin ordered, motioning towards a chair sitting in a darker corner of the hangar and his expression was cold. Connor was quite sure he could see the corner of one of the cop’s eyes twitch a little. This guy had clearly lost all of his marbles since the last time they had met.

Not daring to object, the young author moved towards the chair and sat down, not exactly feeling any better since this position now forced him to look up at Gavin who was hovering over him with this unsettling expression on his bearded face. The man had this slightly crazy look in his eyes that caused Connor’s blood to run cold.

“Where is Markus Manfred?” Gavin asked, unsurprisingly, and waved his gun in front of Connor’s face as if he wasn’t nervous enough as it was already. The safety of the damn thing was still off and he would prefer to not accidentally get shot in the face, thank you very much!

“How would I know?”

“So, you’re not denying that he’s still alive!” The other man replied as if he had just caught Connor in a lie and it made him wonder how Gavin had even managed to become a cop. Maybe he had been good at his job once before he had let himself be consumed by his hatred for those who were different.

“I’m not living under a rock. His face is basically all over the news these days so, yes, I noticed he’s not dead,” Connor deadpanned, unable to help himself even in the face of a loaded gun but his hope to somehow get out of this situation alive or even unharmed was dwindling by the second. He doubted there was any reasoning with Gavin.

“Don’t be a smartass!” The other man shouted, causing the young author to flinch a little, and then his lips curled up into an ugly grin. “I know you know where he is and if you cooperate and tell me, I might let you off the hook.”

“But I don’t know where he is,” Connor answered stubbornly and he refused to tell someone like Gavin about Markus’ whereabouts. Even the weapon wasn’t reason enough to tell on the other man and Connor was fairly certain that Gavin’s promise of being _let off the hook_ was a rather empty one. He didn’t seem to be in a state of mind where he would actually be true to his words.

“Oh, but you do. See, I _know_ that you actually do know where he is so quit lying to me and FUCKING TELL ME!”

Connor managed to resist flinching again but his whole body still tensed up when the other man raised his voice, eyes wide and even crazier looking. He watched the cop walk back over to the car and open the trunk but didn’t dare to move from the chair since he would definitely get shot if he tried anything and there was nothing in the vicinity that could be used as a weapon to defend himself anyway. The young author knew he had no chance against a trained cop with bare hands.

Gavin returned a moment later, after rummaging through the trunk for a moment, and he returned with a bunch of cable ties. Of fucking course.

He wasn’t gentle about tying Connor’s feet to the legs of the chair and the young author hissed in pain when his hands were tied together behind his back as well, the cable tied cutting into his skin because Gavin had tightened them a little too much.

“Let me ask you again nicely and if I don’t get the answer I want to hear...Well, you’ll see what’s going to happen in that case.”

*******

Connor gasped when the second punch hit him, though this one was a lot more expected than the first. He could taste some blood, his lip probably split from Gavin’s fist connecting with it, and the other man’s expression was even more furious than before.

“Why are you protecting this scum?! They’re just dirty animals that are threatening _our_ existence and we could end it all. I could end it, I just need to know where to find their leader,” Gavin said, his voice gravelly with anger and eyes ablaze with fury.

Connor had no idea where this hatred for the shapeshifters came from but it was very obvious that being reasonable was no option, now more than ever. Gavin would clearly not budge from his opinion and it would definitely lead to him hurting more people if he was allowed to continue. Though Connor was neither in a position nor did he possess the ability to stop Gavin.

Gavin was a cop, he was supposed to protect people, not kidnap them to get information about a supposed enemy. But he had clearly strayed from his path and rather chased his own agenda.

“Why do you hate them so much?” The young author asked carefully, ignoring his aching jaw and stubbornly looking up at Gavin, trying not to show that the other’s crazy behaviour scared him.

“Does it matter? Nobody should be in favour of these creatures wanting to be treated like humans. They’re not. They don’t deserve to be our equals!”

“Just because they’re different?”

“BECAUSE THEY’RE FILTHY ANIMALS!” Gavin spat and Connor flinched a little at the once again raised voice. This guy had serious anger issues. “Now, where.is.Markus.Manfred?!”

The young author clenched his jaw and he was aware that it was kind of suicidal to keep on refusing to give the other man the information he wanted but he just _couldn’t_. He had done enough harm to this world and to Markus, he wouldn’t actively add to that. Just because Connor was terrified of dying in this world didn’t mean he’d be fine with that fate befalling Markus in his stead.

“I don’t know.”

His head snapped to the side when Gavin’s fist connected with his cheekbone this time and pain bloomed across the left side of his face, drawing a gasp from his lips that Connor was unable to hold back. His shoulders already hurt from the position of having his arms twisted behind his back, wrists burning where the cable tie slightly cut into his skin, a little more with every hit that caused his body to move.

“You talked to Carl Manfred, you told him that you found the bastard so stop.lying.”

So, that was new.

“How would you know what I told Carl Manfred?” Connor asked, absently licking his bottom lip that was definitely cut and a little swollen at the side. His eyes widened when he realised what Gavin was hinting at. “You’re monitoring Carl?! Listening in on his phone conversations?”

Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that either only Gavin or the police had taken such measures but Connor felt pretty stupid for not having seen this coming. Of course, now with Markus back and openly protesting for his people’s rights, the police would get the idea to keep a closer eye on Carl. They probably knew how close these two were and figured that Markus had to show his face sooner or later, that he wouldn’t be able to stay away from his father and give them a chance to catch him.

“Of course we do. His so-called son is a threat to humanity! It’s for the common good and it was obviously a good choice since you know where to find him.” Gavin’s face split into a manic grin and he flexed his fingers a little, knuckles already slightly bruised but clearly ready for the next hit.

“Alright, since there’s no denying it, I do know where Markus is. But that still doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you because you’re out of your mind. You’re wrong for talking about his kind like this, for hating them just because they’re different,” Connor said and his voice was surprisingly strong and even, despite him feeling shaky and quite scared out of his mind. “I don’t care what you do to me, I’m not giving up this information. His cause is worth way too much for this.”

Just because he was scared didn’t mean Connor couldn’t be stubborn as all hell. And stubborn he was.

Gavin literally _growled_ and his face twisted from a hint of triumph back to an expression of rage. He raised his fist and this time punched hard enough to caused the chair to tip back a little. Connor grit his teeth to muffle the pained sound threatening to escape his throat and his heart lurched at the momentary sensation of falling but the chair didn’t topple over and the ground was back under his feet a second later.

“Believe me, I will get it out of you, one way or another,” Gavin said with a dark voice and even darker expression. His fingers seemed to twitch for the gun at his belt, the gun with its safety still off, but apparently thought better of it and rather got ready for another hit.

Without meaning to, Connor squeezed his eyes shut, getting ready for another wave of pain but it never came. There was surprised gasp and his eyes flew open again, widening in disbelieve when he saw that Gavin’s raised fist had been caught mid-air.

There was a flash of pissed-off blue and green eyes before Gavin stumbled back from being pushed pretty hard. He flailed to keep his balance, skidding a little on the dusty floor.

“You want me so bad? Well, here I am,” Markus announced and his expression probably would have scared Connor at least a little but he was way too relieved to see the other man to be intimidated by the unfamiliarly hard expression on his usually soft features. Markus’ jaw was clenched, causing his cheekbones and strong jaw to be even more prominent and his heterochromatic eyes were narrowed, full of unabashed anger. His shoulder squared, clearly ready to fight if necessary.

“You fucker—” Gavin started but interrupted himself by lurching forward to basically throw himself at Markus, fist raised and once again caught by Markus’ hand before it could reach its goal.

Connor had gotten to know Markus as a gentle and friendly person, it had made him forget about how incredibly badass the man actually was. Even more badass than in his novel, actually. Of course, Markus had the advantage that he was stronger and faster than a regular human so it wasn’t too hard for him to block Gavin’s blows and shove him back, landing a hit of his own against the other man’s chest. It knocked the air out of the cop’s lungs for a moment but didn’t stop him from another attack.

The fight only lasted for five, maybe ten minutes and then Gavin was on the dirty ground, groaning in pain and holding his arm that was probably sprained or maybe even broken.

“Connor!”

His eyes snapped from Gavin’s pitiful form back to Markus who was by his side within a split second, eyes now full of open worry and flickering up and down his body, probably assessing the damage done to the young author.

“I’m fine,” he croaked out and didn’t even manage to scowl at Markus’ scoff, clearly not believing him.

“You don’t _look_ fine,” the other man retorted and rounded the chair, quickly having snapped the cable tie that was digging into Connor’s wrists. His shoulders protested when he could finally move his arms back into a natural position and he rubbed the angry red lines now circling his wrist. A little longer and the cable tie would have drawn blood.

“Come on, let’s get you—” Markus was cut off when Gavin was suddenly back on his feet and cowardly attacking him from behind, wrapping his arms around Markus’ neck in an attempt to strangle him. Markus staggered back and gasped for air, hands flying up to grab the other man’s lower arm that was squeezing his throat.

Connor cursed under his breath and almost jumped up from the chair to help the other man but he barely remembered that his ankles were tied to the legs of the chair as well and he had nothing to cut the cable ties. He frantically glanced around and spotted Gavin’s gun on the ground where it must have fallen from his holster during the fight with Markus.

His heart pounded against his ribs and Connor had never in his life even held a gun but this was not a moment to hesitate about using a weapon if it meant saving someone’s life. Despite Markus being stronger, Gavin apparently had a tight enough grip on him so that Markus wasn’t able to just free himself and not being able to breathe only weakened his resistance.

Connor grit his teeth when he deliberately caused his chair to topple to the side now, grimacing at the painful impact of his shoulder with the hard concrete and the small cloud of dust hitting his face at the same time. He huffed, ignoring the protests of his body and dragged himself across the ground for about two feet until his fingers could close around the grip of the pistol.

The young author twisted around to the other two men still fighting and Markus’ face was already reddening from the lack of oxygen. Connor swallowed thickly when he pointed the gun and he was very aware of the very big possibility of accidentally hitting Markus or missing his target completely but it was better than not trying anything at all, right?

He had never before shot a gun and his hands were shaky as hell, not just from the uncomfortable angle of his arms since he was still lying on the ground.

Connor took a deep breath, trying his best to aim the pistol at Gavin and not think about how terribly wrong this could go when he finally squeezed the trigger. The shot echoed loudly in the big hangar, the gun almost falling from his grasp when it recoiled and for a split second it felt like the time just froze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, maybe I'm having too much fun with cliffhangers at this point but I had to. Sorry?
> 
> So, did someone get shot? If so, whom? Or maybe Connor missed and now Gavin might not be too happy about someone trying to shoot him with his own gun. The possibilities...


	12. Mess of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small warning for the beginning of the chapter for the mention of blood and a shot wound. It's not graphic but I still want to give a heads up in case you didn't see the updated tags for the story.

The sound of the gunshot was still echoing in Connor’s ears and only when his vision blurred further did he realise that he was holding his breath, scared of the outcome of his actions. When the initial shock wore off, he used his shaky hands to slip the legs of the chair out of the cable ties still keeping him chained to said chair. The cable ties were still hanging around his ankles but he could get rid of those later.

Connor scrambled to his feet, staggering a little form and unexpected wave of dizziness but then he stumbled forwards and up to the two bodies currently lying on the dusty ground. He was scared as all hell to find out where his shot had ended up but it must have hit at least one of them, otherwise, they wouldn’t be on the ground.

“Markus?” His voice sounded oddly timid, scared, as he dropped to his knees next to the other man. Connor didn’t even pay conscious attention to Gavin, even though that was a very stupid thing to do, but his sole focus was on Markus’ closed eyes and the momentary terror of _oh God, I killed him_ whirring through his mind in an infinite loop.

He jerked back when Markus’ eyes suddenly snapped open without warning before he shot into a sitting position, gasping for breath while Gavin’s arms finally fell limp from his throat.

“Markus, you’re—are you okay? Did I hit you?” Connor’s eye frantically flickered across the other man’s body but there was only a whole lot of dirt and dust clinging to Markus’ clothes but there was some red splattered against his shoulder and Connor automatically reached out. Gingerly, his fingers brushed against Markus’ shirt, tugging at the material ever so slightly to look for a hole where the bullet might have hit, where the wound would be. There didn’t seem to be any wound, though.

“I’m fine. You didn’t hit me,” Markus gasped out, still breathing in big gulps of air after almost having been strangled to death and it was only then that Connor’s hearing picked up on the barely there gurgling sound next to them.

He hadn't hit Markus, that was right, but he had managed to hit Gavin. Gavin who was trying to breathe despite the hole in the side of his throat that was leaking a constant stream of crimson. There was a puddle of blood already pooling underneath his neck and head, seeping into the man’s shirt. Gavin’s eyelids fluttered, body spasming a little and then there was one last wet, choppy intake of air before the horrifying sound finally stopped.

Gavin’s head tipped to the side, eyes still open but Connor could see the light in them dimming until they were just dully staring into nothingness. He was dead.

A mixture of horror and relief flooded Connor as he realised that he had killed someone but he had also saved both of their lives in the process. He slumped back, his butt hitting the cold concrete floor as the air whooshed out of his lungs with a shuddery exhale. It was over.

“Come on, we should get out of here,” Markus said after a beat of silence and heaved himself up onto his feet, absently dusting his clothes off even though it was a useless gesture considering the amount of dirt actually clinging to his whole self.

Connor absently heard the words but the meaning wasn’t registering with him as he was still staring at Gavin’s motionless form, the dead eyes of the cop looking right back at him unblinkingly. The young author already knew that this image would surely haunt him for a long time after this.

“Connor!” Markus’ loud voice caused him to flinch and snap his head up, eyes wide as he looked back into the softening gaze of seafoam green and clear blue. “We have to get out of here before someone shows up, looking for him.”

He nodded jerkily and accepted the hand offered to him, allowing Markus to easily pull him back to his feet. Markus didn’t let go of his hand, simply tugged him along as he walked across the hangar and towards the wide open gate with long strides. They were about the same height save for maybe one or two inches and Connor’s legs were probably a little longer but he still stumbled alongside the other man, body not quite catching up with what it was supposed to be doing.

Instead of heading back towards the city, Markus led him further into the abandoned industrial district they were currently in, putting quite some distance between them and the hangar before heading straight for a building that looked a little less decrepit than the rest of the buildings in the area. It looked like it had been some small repair shop once but Connor couldn’t be bothered to pay too much attention to it.

“What happened?”

Connor blinked at Markus while the other man had made him sit down on a couch that had more holes in it than not, it also smelled pretty damn musty when Connor slumped down onto it but he didn’t find it in himself to care too much right now. He was shaken up and his mind was still reeling from the events that had occurred not even half an hour ago.

“I shot him,” were the first words out of his mouth and Connor swallowed thickly, his fingers tangling together in his lap while he stared down at them. From his periphery, he could see Markus standing right in front of him and then sink down into a crouch, warm hands coming up to cover Connor’s. The other man’s knuckles were a little bruised and his fingertips felt slightly rough against Connor’s skin but they were warm and oh so gently.

“You saved my life,” Markus corrected and softly squeezed the young author’s fingers, brushing his thumb along Connor’s index finger in slow, soothing motions. “I meant, what happened for you to end up here in the first place? What did that guy do to you?”

The other’s voice was low, soft but Connor was fairly sure he could still hear well-hidden anger simmering underneath the words.

“I was waiting for the bus out of the city,” he started slowly, trying to remember what had happened before there was a man on the ground, drowning in his own blood _because of him_. His thoughts were a complete mess but Connor pushed through the haze of shock and reconstruct the events as good as possible.

“He was suddenly next to me, asking me to accompany him. I thought it was on official business—I know he’s a cop from when you got shot and I went to the station to ask what had happened to you afterwards—so I didn’t think too much of it at first. But then I saw the car and I knew he wasn’t there as a cop. But he had his gun on him and forced me to get into the car.”

Markus’ fingers continued to brush over his, soothing motions that kept his mind a little more focused on telling the other man what had happened instead of slipping back to the images of the most recent memories.

“He brought me here, tied me up to the chair and asked about you,” he breathed and felt his eyebrows knit together for a small frown, “he wanted to know where you’re hiding. The police have been monitoring Carl’s house, his phone. I—I called Carl after I left Jericho, told him that I found you but never mentioned your whereabouts.”

Connor felt stupid for having called Carl in the first place, for the stupid need to soothe the man’s worries. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

“I didn’t tell him where to find you,” the young author added like an afterthought as if that would be a logical concern right now and he heard Markus huff out a breath.

“I already figured as much. You could have just told him, though,” the other man replied and his words were enough to make Connor’ head snap up, disbelief probably clear on his face.

“Why would I? I would have endangered not you but everyone else as well. It could have stopped the whole revolution!”

“I know but he threatened and hurt you. Nobody would have blamed you for giving us away to stop him from harming you even further. Most people would have caved in,” Markus replied easily while Connor just stared at him.

“One life isn’t as precious as the lives of many,” he heard himself say and Connor was a little surprised about it himself. He saw something flicker across Markus’ face but the emotion was too quickly for him to tell what it was.

“Every life is precious,” Markus said barely above a whisper and raised back to his feet only to sit down next to Connor on the old couch, one hand back on top of his while the other one gingerly reached up to curl around the young author’s jaw. “Let me see the damage and then I’ll go look for something to take care of you.”

Connor almost complained that he didn’t need to be taken care of, that he was just a little bruised and had a split lip but it wasn’t anything major. He’d live. But somehow the words got stuck in his throat when he noticed the other man’s intense gaze lingering on his face, the unhappy frown between Markus’ brows and the care with which the other man tilted his head to take a look at every bruise and cut Gavin had left him with.

Markus muttered a “This bastard” under his breath while his thumb brushed across Connor’s cheekbone and even though he barely even made contact, the young author still flinched because of the pain. He didn’t even want to know what his face looked like right now—colourful and surely partly swollen.

“Is it just your face or did he hurt you elsewhere?” The other man asked after a thorough inspection of Connor’s face that left him oddly breathless and tingly.

“No, only that. And what do you mean _just_ my face? It’s my best feature,” Connor replied mock-sulkily, trying to lighten the mood a little but his voice didn’t deliver the joke properly, causing it to fall flat. Markus’ expression was thoroughly unimpressed as well.

“At least you’re not traumatised beyond repair if you’re still able to make ridiculous jokes,” Markus sighed but the corners of his mouth twitched a little, curving up the smallest bit while he shook his head in silent disbelieve. His hand finally dropped from Connor’s face who immediately missed the gentle contact and welcome warmth of the touch but didn’t comment on it.

“You stay right here, I’ll go look if I can find anything useful to take care of you,” Markus then announced and got back up from the couch, the springs creaking with the movement and Connor barely bit back another comment about how he didn’t need to be taken care of—plus he doubted there would be anything in this building that could be helpful.

He leant further back into the couch, wrinkling his nose a little when he finally consciously noticed the scent and then tried to ignore it. He didn’t even want to know how much worse the smell surely had to be for Markus’ much more sensitive senses.

*******

“Stop moving,” Markus sighed but he wasn’t actually annoyed, just rolling his eyes fondly when he gently tightened his grip on Connor’s jaw a little in order to prevent him from flinching back as he carefully dapped a cotton ball with disinfectant against the other’s man’s bruises.

“It stings,” Connor complained and he was still not too sure if it was a good idea to use some disinfectant that had technically expired more than half a year ago.

Markus had argued that the disinfectant was with alcohol so it couldn’t possibly be expired or turn into poison—it wasn’t like medicine you ingested where the expiration date was a lot more important. Plus, he figured it was still better than not treating the scratched at all and let them get infected from all the dirt and dust in that hangar. Connor couldn’t really fault the logic in that.

“Don’t get yourself kidnapped and roughed up by some wayward cop and you wouldn’t have to endure this,” Markus replied easily and carefully brushed his thumb along Connor’s chin, close to his bottom lip. The cut had long since stopped bleeding but the bump from the swelling felt weird and Connor had to keep himself from prodding at it with his fingers or tongue.

“How did you find me, by the way?” Connor asked instead of reacting to the other’s words and he just now realised that it made no sense for Markus have shown up there.

“I saw your letter when we came back from the Stratford Tower and headed out to find you. I figured you’d probably end up getting yourself into some kind of trouble.” Markus shrugged and put the cotton ball aside but instead of drawing his hand back, it only slipped a little further down to rest against the side of Connor’s neck, warm fingers leaving his skin with a tingly sensation.

“It was stupid of you to leave on your own. I told you I’d come with and you could have waited one more day.”

“After the last conversation we had, I figured you probably wouldn’t want to help me since you were clearly convinced I’m lying,” Connor pointed out and barely managed to keep the eye contact instead of averting his gaze. It always felt like Markus’ heterochromatic eyes were boring right into his very soul, especially from close up.

“You can’t blame me for not believing such a story.” Markus narrowed his eyes a little and Connor was almost impressed by the fact that the other man had chased after him despite not believing him. They had parted ways in a fight but yet here Markus was, taking care of him and looking at him with worry, not bitter about their argument, it seemed.

“I know I can’t prove it and I know how illogical it sounds but on the other hand...shapeshifters and magic don’t make any sense either. They don’t exist in my world—as far as I know—but yet here we are. I’m looking for a sorcerer to create a portal back to my own world with a man who can turn into a Husky. How is _I’m apparently stuck in my own novel_ far-fetched compared to that?”

“It just is,” Markus answered stubbornly, sounding like a petulant child now and his face was this close to a pout that Connor couldn’t even feel insulted by the other’s lack of trust in his words. The expression on Markus’ face was nothing short of adorable and maybe, maybe Connor did get the other’s reluctance to believe him.

Believing him would mean that this whole word and Markus’ whole being itself wasn’t real. That he was a figment of someone’s imagination. Connor figured it must be almost as scary as death.

That plummeting sensation in the pit of your stomach when you lay in bed at night, thought inadvertently drifting off to the fact that your life would end someday and you just _wouldn’t_ be _anymore_. It was terrifying. Being here and not actually existing surely must have a similar effect. The human brain simply couldn’t fathom something like this without ending up in a loop of anxiety.

Connor decided not to push it, to drop the topic since he figured it didn’t matter that much in the grand scheme of things anyway. What difference would it make if Markus believed him or not? It didn’t change the fact that whatever was real, was real. And whatever wasn’t real...simply wasn’t.

“I don’t _want_ to believe you.” Markus’ hand dropped from his neck and the other man turned around a little, facing forward now and leaving Connor to stare at his profile. “But you were right about Simon.”

The sentence hung heavy in the air between them and Connor had briefly considered asking about Stratford Tower when the other had mentioned it but figured this was a wound he didn’t need to be poking at but now that Markus mentioned it on his own accord…

“What happened?” The young author inquired softly, angling his body more towards Markus and reaching out without thinking, his hand tentatively resting against the other’s lower arm to offer his comfort.

“He got shot. He was badly injured and unable to leave with us,” Markus answered after a beat of silence, his voice a little rough despite being so quiet that Connor was barely able to understand his words. “The other’s suggested shooting him so he wouldn’t get caught and give away the location of Jericho.”

Connor winced and he wondered if Markus had pulled the trigger. He hadn’t done so in the novel and Connor absolutely couldn’t imagine this Markus making a different decision. It wasn’t in the other man to kill one of his own friends, one of the people he held dear.

“I couldn’t do it. I figured it should be Simon’s decision.”

The young author nodded and almost smiled because it sounded so much like what had happened in his novel. So maybe Simon wasn’t actually dead? Though why had the news reported about one of the intruders being dead, then?

“I wanted to leave the gun with him, to defend himself and to...to end it if he chose to do so. But North, she—” He interrupted himself, breath hitching and eyes now squeezed shut but Markus didn’t have to continue the sentence for Connor to know what must have happened.

“She took the gun from you and the decision from Simon.” It wasn’t a question.

Markus nodded and exhaled a shuddering breath, face now stricken with grief and twisted with the pain of losing his friend in such an unnecessary way. “You were right.”

Connor’s heart broke at how small the confident and proud leader of the revolution sounded all of a sudden, clearly feeling guilty and trying to carry the weight of said guilt all on his own. The young author couldn’t even regret his instincts taking over now, arms wrapping around Markus without a second thought.

The other man tensed up a little but then slumped against Connor as if someone had poked a hole into a balloon to cause it to deflate. He wondered if Markus had ever let himself be vulnerable in front of the others in Jericho or if he had just piled up all of the horrors he had been through since that one evening in the Manfred Mansion. Markus always took care of everyone around him but forgot about himself in the process.

Connor closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the other man when he felt the strong body shudder with a hiccuped little sob, the sound barely there but driving a painful dagger right through Connor’s heart nonetheless.

“It’s okay. I got you,” he murmured, nose pressed against the soft skin right behind Markus’ ear while he continued to hold the other man as closely and tightly as possible; offering him all the comfort and support he could give while also letting the hug soothe his own restless mind that was still reeling from the trauma of today’s events.


	13. End of the Line

Connor groaned softly when he woke up, feeling sleep-heavy and a little disoriented because whatever he was sleeping on felt rather uncomfortable. There were at least two metal springs digging into his back and one even poking the side of his left buttcheek. Even more confusing was the weight on top of him, heavy but not necessarily uncomfortably so.

He had to think of the times when he had been over to his manager’s, Hank’s, place and got talked into drinking a few beers, ending up falling asleep on the other man’s rather uncomfortable couch with his Saint Bernard Sumo climbing on top of him in the middle of the night.

If Sumo hadn’t spontaneously grown broad shoulders and had started a habit of wearing shirts, though, it definitely wasn’t the dog on top of him but it was another living being.

It took Connor’s hazy brain a moment to snap to attention and remember the last day, reminding him to the fact that it was, in a way, a dog that was currently using him as a mattress. His eyelids lazily fluttered open and his heart skipped a beat when he glanced down to see Markus’ head resting in his chest.

The other man was lying in between Connor’s spread legs, strong arms tightly slung around narrow hips and cheek adorably squished against Connor’s chest. Markus’ face was relaxed, still deep in sleep, lips slightly parted. There was the barest rumble of protest when the young author dared to move the smallest bit but the other man didn’t stir or wake up just yet.

After the initial shock of waking up with Markus’ strong body pinning him to the mouldy couch in the former repair shop, Connor quickly snatched his hands back from where they had been resting on the other’s broad back and now they were awkwardly hovering in the air.

He dropped one arm down the side of the couch after a moment but the other arm didn’t really have anywhere else to go since it was partly lodged between Markus’ shoulder and the back of the couch and even if he did free it from there, Connor wouldn’t know where to place it.

It had been forever since he had woken up with another body next to him— _on top of him_ , whatever—and the fact that this was a man he was highly attracted to didn’t really make the situation easier. Connor bit his bottom lip and prayed that his body wouldn’t end up reacting in a very uncalled for way now because he didn’t need to be in that kind of situation on top of everything else!

“Markus,” he called out softly, awkwardly patting the other man’s back now in hopes of getting him to wake up but Markus barely shifted with a quiet huff and even buried his nose against Connor’s chest. His heart was thrumming fast enough for him to fear that the other man would be awoken by that alone but that didn’t seem to be the case.

Markus shifted again in his sleep, adjusting his position and since he was lying between Connor’s sprawled out legs, the movement also caused his hip to push against the young author’s and _oh no, this was going to end badly_.

Connor’s eyes widened in a semblance of rising panic and his brain apparently decided that waking the other man up a little more forcefully meant quite literally kicking him off the couch. He hadn’t meant for that to happen but a brief flash of panic and suddenly Markus was startled awake while landing on the hard ground with a dull thud.

“What the hell—?!” Markus muttered, sitting up with wide eyes and glancing around as if he expected an attack but he only found a sheepish looking Connor on the raggedy looking couch in the dimly lit room, squinting down at him with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to push you off like this,” the young author mumbled and his cheeks were touched by a hint of pink, eyebrows pinched together and nose crinkled as if he was put out by his very own action.

“Oh?” Was all Markus managed in return, clearly not awake enough for anything more eloquent to say as he watched Connor with a slightly tilted head, nostrils flaring the smallest bit.

Connor averted his gaze now, picking at a loose thread from the couch while sitting up properly, one leg dangling off the couch before the other one followed suit. His glasses were a little askew, hair an absolute mess and clothes rumpled. He absently tugged at his shirt that had twisted around his torso and revealed a thin stripe of pale skin above the waistline of his jeans and was just about to get up when  Markus was suddenly _right there_.

The other man had raised up onto his knees, his strong hands placed on top of Connor’s knees while their faces were only inches apart. There was a curious but determined expression in his heterochromatic eyes and a smile settling in the corners of his way too soft looking lips.

“You could make up for the harsh wake-up call,” Markus suggested with a playful note while his voice had dropped a little and Connor was awake enough to catch the flirty twinkle in the other’s mesmerizing eyes.

He swallowed, wondering if he would get away with playing dumb but absently realised that Markus’ sensitive senses must have picked up on what was going on. Connor wasn’t anywhere close to being visibly aroused but he wouldn’t put it past shapeshifters to be able to smell a shift in someone else’s scent according to their mood.

Just because he had ignored that there was _something_ between them since day one didn’t mean it wasn’t there. This was just the first time Markus was literally all in his face about it and Connor didn’t quite know how to handle it. Well, he knew how he _should_ handle it but it admittedly wasn’t the way he _wanted_ to. Oh boy, did he _want_ to—

The almost shy brush of Markus’ nose against the bridge of his own caused Connor’s line of thought to stutter to a stop, eyes widening when the barely-there touch was followed up by soft lips faintly grazing his bruised cheekbone before settling against the soft skin close to the corner of his eye.

His heart was hammering so fast, it was probably close to giving out completely and Connor almost forgot how breathing even worked. He inhaled the scent of dust that was doing nothing to cover up the scent of _Markus_ and he almost felt intoxicated by it.

“Let me take care of you.” The words were a seductive whisper against his cheek, kisses trailing along his face until there was a soft nip at his earlobe.

Connor’s eyelids fluttered and his cheeks burned up because he knew, this time, Markus’ words had absolutely nothing to do with the bruises on his face. It would be so easy to nod, to agree in any way and just let this happen. It was impossible to deny that he had wanted this ever since he had laid eyes on the other man for the first time.

The young author almost gave in, almost tilted his head to the side to finally press their mouths together with all the helpless desperation that was now bubbling up in his chest but the small, rational part of his brain apparently decided to kick back into action right now. His hands were against Markus’ shoulders and gently pushing him back before Connor even realised his arms had been moving.

His fingers ached with the need to pull the other man closer and push their bodies together but he did the exact opposite. Markus’ playful expression shifted into that of confusion and a hint of hurt that tugged painfully at Connor’s own heartstrings as he mumbled out a breathless “Sorry” before basically bolting from the room.

*******

To say that the atmosphere was beyond awkward after his hasty retreat was the understatement of the year. Markus did try to ask him about his reaction but Connor blocked off all attempts and redirected the topic of finding Kamski.

They had left the abandoned industrial district on foot, grabbed something to eat as soon as they were back in the city and then got on the next bus out of Detroit. The silence stretched uncomfortably between them and Connor stared out of the window of the bus the whole time, trying to focus on the landscape while being hyper-aware of Markus right next to him in the seat.

He flinched a little whenever their knees knocked together due to a pothole or turn and felt shittier about it with every time it happened. Connor knew he was giving Markus a completely wrong impression and he had never meant to hurt the other man but, once again, he had ended up doing just that and it made his heart constrict with a new wave of guilt.

Still, no matter how much Connor had wanted something to happen between them, he simply couldn’t let it. He would hopefully head back to the real world sometime soon and it wouldn’t be fair to either of them to allow them to get a taste of something that just couldn’t be. There was no future for whatever they felt for each other so why indulge in it and make the inevitable goodbye all the more painful?

Or maybe, Connor was just being selfish and was only trying to protect himself from getting his heart broken. He should probably ask Markus what he thought about it but the young author was too chicken-shit to do so.

He had managed to verbally stand up to Gavin trying to beat him into submission but talking feelings felt absolutely impossible. God, he truly was a selfish asshole, wasn’t he?

Markus was always so selfless. He risked everything for the sake of others, even left his important cause to chase after Connor and save his sorry ass, accompanying him to some sorcerer without even believing his explanation. And now, Markus was keeping quiet and not pushing him to talk despite the fact that he clearly wanted to—Markus was the kind of person that wanted to deal with problems right away instead of avoiding them—so he was once again putting his own needs second.

They managed to ride the whole way to the Leech Lake Indian Reservation without exchanging a single word and when they exited the bus, Connor almost expected the other man to announce that he would rather head back now. Of course, that didn’t happen and Markus stayed with him, even leading the way towards the reservation.

The young author wondered if Markus had some kind of plan or if maybe he had picked up a scent that a human’s sense of smell couldn’t notice but he didn’t really dare to break their silence.

*******

“It must be the building over there,” Markus announced out of nowhere after almost an hour of silently trekking through the woods. He pointed ahead, towards a surprisingly luxurious looking building that somehow still managed to blend in surprisingly well with the environment.

“How did you—”

He saw Markus tap his nose with his index finger and didn’t finish the question.

 _Of course_.

Markus headed straight for the building and Connor stumbled a little before catching up to the other man. Part of him realised that this might be his last chance to properly talk to Markus and apologise for his earlier behaviour—to explain it to the other man and to make sure Markus knew the reason for the rejection was neither him nor lack of attraction on Connor’s part.

He missed his chance to speak up, though, because the door to the pompous building swung open before they even reached the bottom of the wooden stairs leading up to it and the man looking down to them looked not the least bit surprised about the visit.

“Connor, Markus,” he greeted them easily with the hint of a smug grin settling on his thin lips when they were both obviously shocked about being known by the stranger, “took you boys long enough.”

With that, the guy stepped aside and motioned for them to follow. Connor glanced at Markus who only briefly returned the gaze before heading up the stairs without hesitation. He figured that the other man wouldn’t follow this guy if he had any reason to suspect danger.

“How do you know our names?” Connor asked after following the other two inside and pushing the door shut, glancing around the surprisingly fancy looking building while they headed towards the supposed living room where the sorcerer had a small table and armchairs, one of them looking more like a throne than a regular armchair—obviously, it was the one he took a seat on before gesturing for his guests to sit down as well.

“I’m a sorcerer, of course, I know who you are. I’m Elijah Kamski, by the way,” the man replied, introducing himself while lounging in his chair like a king during an audience, one arm dangling from the armrest while the other rested on top of his thigh, legs lazily spread out. He was wearing some kind of fancy looking bathrobe that was revealing more of Kamski’s chest than Connor fancied to see and he really wondered if this guy would even be willing to help. He started to have his doubts about that…

“I also know why you’re here so why not skip the boring part and get to all those questions you have collected in that pretty head of yours since your arrival in this world,” Kamski said, his gaze mostly focused on the young author and not bothering that Markus was basically glaring at him the whole time.

“Alright,” Connor muttered and there were quite a few things he wanted to know, even though this guy wasn’t someone he would want to talk to for longer than strictly necessary but it was his one opportunity to actually understand what was going on, how all of this had happened. Instead of outright asking how any of this could be possible, somehow his mouth decided on “There are no sorcerers in my novel” as an opener.

Kamski blinked, clearly not having expected this statement but then he tilted his head back and laughed.

The conversation was only just starting and Connor already got the sense that this guy was taking everything as some sort of joke and seriousness was probably not one of his traits.

“You’re not even supposed to be real!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a few seemed to have been waiting for Kamski to show up so, there he is. I'm quite happy with how he turned out but there's more of him in the next chapter than in this one. The next one was quite fun to write even though I already know you're gonna hate me for it *laughs*


	14. Last First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being a day late. I simply forgot to upload yesterday because my best friend is staying with me for a week now *laughs* 
> 
> Try not to hate me too much for this one.

>  “You’re not even supposed to be real!”

Kamski raised his eyebrows at that and snorted in amusement, not the least bit impressed by Connor’s sudden outburst. He leant further back in his ridiculously throne-like armchair, legs still spread out to the sides like the cocky bastard he clearly was.

“And you’re not supposed to be here. Novels aren’t supposed to come to live. Your canine friend over there isn’t supposed to be an existing creature. But life is funny like that,” Kamski said with a self-satisfied little smirk, fingertips brushing against his stubbly cheeks, causing a raspy little sound as his digits slowly followed the line of his jaw.

“This”—the sorcerer raised his other hand and made a swirling motion, gesturing to the room around them and probably meaning this world in general—”isn’t supposed to exist either but thanks to me, it does.”

Now, it was Connor’s turn to raise his eyebrows and he started to get quite annoyed by this overconfident man. Kamski was a grade A douchebag! “ _You_ brought this into existence? What are you even on about?”

“It’s cute, you thinking that all of this is actually your doing,” Kamski started with a smirk that seemed to have made a home in the corners of his mouth by now. He waited for a beat, letting his words register before he added to it. “You may have written the novel but I’m the one who gave you the idea in the first place. I allowed you quite a lot of freedom in developing the world, granted, but the initial spark for this idea? All my doing. Whenever I wanted this to go in a certain direction, I provided you with the necessary inspiration and _voilà_ you added it to my creation.”

Connor felt like someone had hit him straight in the face and while he refused to believe any of this, he felt anger bubble up in his chest at the mere possibility that Kamski had used him as some kind of puppet to write this world into existence.

“This guy, for example,” the sorcerer went on, clearly enjoying the attention and boasting about his own greatness while gesturing towards a sourly looking Markus, “is basically just a copy of a guy you see every other week but you never consciously noticed him. Your subconscious knows him, though, and since he goes to the same coffee shop as you do, you even know his name: _Markus_.”

Connor really was a peaceful person but the urge to just punch Kamski in the face was growing stronger by the second. He glanced at Markus who, by now, was clearly avoiding to look in his general direction and that fact was unexpectedly painful. He had no right to feel hurt, though, because Connor couldn’t even begin to imagine what the other man must be feeling right now—after hearing that now only was his whole world basically just a figment of imagination, come alive by the whims of a bored sorcerer, but he was also nothing but the copy of someone else.

The young author felt sick to his stomach all of a sudden and the urge to punch Kamski was quickly replaced by the need to walk over to Markus and comfort him somehow. He wanted to make the stubborn set of the other’s jaw loosen up, rub the tension out of Markus’ broad shoulders and bring a soft smile back to the other’s lips that were currently pressed into a thin line.

Markus already had more than enough trouble in his life and he definitely hadn’t needed all this on top of the revolution and everything else. Connor knew he wasn’t exactly at fault because he hadn’t known and hadn’t done any of this consciously but he still felt guilty and the need to apologize to the other man since Kamski sure as hell didn’t think he had done anything wrong.

“Markus,” he started but shut up when the heterochromatic eyes glared at him and then the shapeshifter turned away and got up from his seat, walking across the room towards the window. Connor didn’t know if he just wanted to look outside to think or if this was just an attempt to get as far away from the young author as the room allowed him to.

Kamski’s eyes flickered between them and he actually huffed out something akin to a laugh.

“Interesting,” he murmured but didn’t elaborate on whatever he had noticed while cross one leg over the other, fingertips tapping softly against the armrest. “Isn’t it impressive, though? I did all this and you can pride yourself with having helped along. You’re like my sidekick.”

Connor tore his eyes away from Markus and back to the sorcerer who was still looking frustratingly smug and not at all like someone guilty of fucking other people’s lives up.

“I don’t want to be your _sidekick_ and I would have never done this if I had known. This is just a game to you but, guess what, you’re hurting people!” Connor spat back and part of him even considered regretting that he had become a writer in the first place but he knew that was nonsense. There was no way he could have anticipated any of this and besides, Kamski surely would have just found another author to unknowingly do his bidding.

“Fictional people,” Kamski corrected his words and Connor wanted to grab the man by the collar and _shake the ignorance out of him_. How could a single person be this infuriating?! “Plus, I’m not even the cruel one. You wrote the worst of the drama in the story. Carl’s death was not my idea. I thought along the lines of Markus pushing Leo instead of enduring the bullying like some obedient dog. That one is on you.”

The words felt like a punch to the face and Connor’s eyes flickered to Markus once again but the other man was still staring out the window, broad back to the room and his shoulders as tense as they could be. _God, he had fucked everything up so badly, hadn’t he?_

“It was just a story. If I had known—I wouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to—” The young author huffed in frustration and why did words always fail him when it was most important? He was able to write pages worth of heartfelt dialogue for fictional characters but when it came to real life his brain just seemed to tap out and leave him speechless when it was the most inconvenient.

“It’s still _just a story_ ,” Kamski pointed out, sounding unbothered and almost bored by now, his index finger drawing circles on the armrest. “The fact that you’re currently in the story doesn’t change the fact that everything except for you and me is made up. It’s not real. So don’t get too attached to it.”

“You’re an asshole,” Connor blurted out before he could stop himself and he really hated the way Kamski talked about all of this, how easily he dismissed the people of this world simply because they only existed due to his magic. The sorcerer was definitely a shitty creator to have.

“And this asshole is your only chance to get back to where you belong—the real world,” Kamski replied easily, clearly not the least bit bothered by the insult.

Connor pressed his lips into a thin line and on one hand, he knew this was true or at least very likely to be true. He didn’t want to risk being stuck in this world but he also didn’t want to just accept all the terrible things Kamski said, clearly viewing all of this as nothing but a game to keep him entertained until he would find something else to do the job.

“You know what? I’m actually a pretty nice guy so...I’m going to give you some time to say goodbye if you want to. Then, I’ll send you back to your world and you won’t have to see me ever again,” the sorcerer offered with a voice that made it sound like he was being oh so generous. Kamski flashed Connor a smile that was more unsettling than anything else before smoothly getting up from his throne-like armchair, spreading his arms in a dramatic fashion and then basically _swaggering_ out of the room.

This man was unbelievable and Connor probably would have called out another insult after him but his eyes were drawn back to Markus who was still at the window, unmoving, and his heart sank in his chest.

Connor opened his mouth but since he didn’t even know what he was supposed to say—what he could say in this type of scenario—he closed it again without saying a single word. He felt the need to walk up to Markus, to reach out and rest his hands against the tense expanse of the other’s shoulders,  but he couldn’t imagine that Markus would be very welcoming of that right now so he stayed quiet and settled back into his seat.

*******

“You know what? No!” Markus suddenly whirled around with an angry expression, causing Connor to flinch and automatically jump up from his seat because the other man hadn’t said a single word ever since Kamski had left the room about ten minutes earlier. Markus had been stubbornly keeping his back to Connor, staring out the window the whole time, at the world he now knew technically wasn’t even real.

Now, Markus was stalking up to Connor, backing him up against the wall and slamming his fist against it next to the young author’s head who couldn’t do anything but stare at the other man with wide eyes, heart in his throat.

“You don’t get to just back out! You don’t get to show up here, turn everything I thought I knew upside down and then leave,” Markus basically growled, his chest heaving and part of Connor was waiting to be grabbed by the collar or punched in the face or _something_. He knew Markus was a gentle person and that he actually hated any kind of violence but Connor almost wanted the other man to punch him because he was more than deserving of it.

It was kind of ironic, now knowing that all of this was just here because of Kamski’s magic and Connor’s writing, but no matter how much the sorcerer insisted on none of it being real, Markus’ pain was almost tangible between them. He was close enough for Connor to feel the other’s body heat even though they weren’t even touching and his heart continued to race in his chest but that sensation had absolutely nothing to do with the initial shock of Markus’ outburst and it had certainly nothing to do with fear because Connor could never be afraid of Markus.

“You don’t get to just leave me.”

The words were low, pained and drained of all the anger that had been in Markus’ voice only seconds ago and Connor exhaled a shaky breath, closing his eyes because it became unbearable to look into the other man’s beautiful face twisted in desperation.

“Connor, look at me,” the other man rasped, his voice now barely above a whisper and Connor wanted to refuse the plea but then Markus’ forehead suddenly pressed against his own and the rough digits of the other’s fingertips cradled his face and Connor’s eyelids fluttered open without his permission.

He forgot how to breathe as he was drowning in the sight of seafoam green and azure, Markus’ heterochromatic eyes boring into his. The other man was close enough for Connor to feel his warm breath against his own lips and cheeks, causing his heart to speed up even more if that was even possible at this point.

“You don’t get to do that, you hear me?!” Markus said with a low voice but all the anger was gone from it now, his whole face had softened and expression radiating nothing but sadness at this point.

Connor had no idea what Markus was expecting from him, what he was supposed to do about any of this because he had no power over anything but he still breathed a shaky “Okay”. He didn’t know how to wipe this expression from Markus’ face but he wanted to everything in his power to achieve just that.

“I don’t know—”

His words were interrupted when Markus tipped his head up and, at the same time, pressed their mouth together almost roughly. Whatever Connor had been about to say disappeared from his mind and his eyes fell closed once more, hands suddenly flying up to Markus’ sides and finger desperately tangling in the fabric of the partly ripped shirt. This gesture was followed by Markus’ lips softening against his, thumb gently pressing against Connor’s jaw simultaneously with the careful swipe of a tongue against his dry lips.

Connor gasped when his mouth automatically opened up to Markus and he was incredibly glad the other man was crowding further into his personal space, effectively pinning him against the wall with his whole body, because otherwise his legs probably would have just given out.

“I don’t care what Kamski says,” Markus said a little breathlessly when they had to break the kiss and he leant his forehead back against Connor’s, both of his hands now cradling the author’s face oh so gently, “this is real.”

One of Markus’ hands slipped from Connor’s face, trailing along his neck and his shoulder down to his hand to raise it up to the shapeshifter’s chest. He pressed Connor’s hand against his chest, allowing him to feel Markus’ frantic beating heart against his palm.

“Does this not feel real?” He asked softly and pushed his chest into the contact, causing Connor to press his fingertips against the firm peck and swallow thickly.

“It does,” he breathed and Markus felt as real as Connor himself. He was a living, breathing being with feelings and a personality. Maybe he was only here because of Kamski’s magic and Connor’s unknowing involvement but that didn’t make Markus any less real.

The other man smiled, clearly pleased with this reply and he was just about to lean back in to capture Connor’s lips in another kiss when the door suddenly slammed open.

“Sorry to interrupt the inevitable makeout session but there is an angry mob heading this way and I don’t need them finding out I’m harbouring you two. Plus, I have way too much white in here, that would not go over well with a bloodbath,” Kamski announced, rushing into the room with his bathrobe-like attire fluttering behind him in a dramatic fashion.

Kamski stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the two weren’t moving and now pointed a bejewelled finger at them, narrowing his eyes. “The mutt can just shift and get out through the sewer. As for you, puppet, you’ll go back to where you came from _right now_. It was fun, letting you mess everything up a little but I want you out of here now.”

The words were followed by a flick of Kamski’s wrist and some blue mist started appearing new Connor’s feet, slowly spreading upwards and curling around his legs, slowly swallowing him up. The author’s eyes widened in shock and he wanted to jump away, to get out of the quickly growing cloud of magic, but he was unable to breach the smoke like energy.

“No, I’m not going! I changed my mind, I don’t want to go back!” He called out to the sorcerer who was now raising his other hand and, with another flick of his wrist, caused Markus to smash into the opposite wall as if he weighed nothing more than a feather, easily swept off his feet and blown away. It made Connor realise how powerful Kamski had to be and that they were both at this man’s mercy right now.

“Too late for that. Besides, I never planned on keeping you here. It was fun to see how your visit would change the story and effect this world but playtime is over,” the sorcerer announced darkly and raised the hand still pointed at Connor, causing the cloud of magic to expand even faster and envelop the author's chest by now.

His eyes flickered to Markus who was getting back to his feet with a pained groan, calling out Connor’s name under his breath, and he wanted to call out in return, to say _anything_ to Markus before he would be sucked back into his own world. But when he opened his lips, all he could do was inhale the thick cloud of blue smoke that caused his lungs to constrict and Connor wasn’t even able to cough at the sudden inability to breathe. His view became dizzy and blacked out a mere second later, dragging him into complete darkness and nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start lynching me for another cliffhanger, good news: the story will not be over with 15 chapters. I admit I was very tempted to pretend that chapter 15 is the end and then be like "fooled ya, it's not the end" but I just can't be that much of an asshole. But I don't know how many chapters it will have in the end so...I'm not changing the chapter count yet. So it's not just going to be one more chapter which would not be enough to resolve the situation and tie it all together nicely.
> 
> Also, spoiler, but I'm a sucker for happy endings :)


	15. Inside my Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it me. Back with another chapter that's probably going to be frustrating to read but what's new *laughs*

Connor groaned and buried his face further into his pillow, cursing his habit of always setting an alarm even when he didn’t have any appointments that day. It took him about ten minutes of snoozing until his eyes finally snapped open, sitting up fast enough to feel a little dizzy.

Everything looked a little blurry but he knew right away that he was in his own apartment, in the real world. Frantically, the young author grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and didn’t even care that they ended up sitting a little lopsidedly on the bridge of his nose since he was already out of the bed and on his feet.

He was back home, so Kamski had really sent him back despite Connor announcing that he had changed his mind. A sharp pain in his chest made him reach up and absently rub the left side of it, where his heart was beating in an almost panicked rhythm. He had to figure out a way to get back!

For some reason, his eyes strayed to his desk and he frowned when he noticed the notebook was gone. He was very sure he had put it down on the desk and he wasn’t stupid, he knew the thing had something to do with him ending up in his own novel. Connor felt almost frantic while he searched for the small book but it was nowhere to be found. There was only a piece of paper sitting on his desk with a few words in his own handwriting glaring back at him—taunting him, almost.

_**Escape: Come Alive**  
find possible love-interest for Markus_

Connor knew this was what he had written down in the notebook so why was it on a regular, single sheet of paper now? It made no sense and made him feel like he was actually going crazy now. Without thinking further, the young author scrambled for his phone and used the speed-dial to call his manager, not even paying attention to the time.

“You better have a damn good excuse to be calling me at this hour. Is someone dying?” Hank greeted him gruffly, his voice rough with sleep and not even trying to hide his annoyance.

Connor blinked, turned around his own axis in search of a clock before he padded into the kitchen where the clock above the doorway told him it was barely eight in the morning. Huh.

“Sorry, Hank, I—” He paused because Connor had absolutely no clue how to go about this or what he even wanted to say. He had just grabbed his phone without a second thought. He couldn’t exactly ask Hank about alternate universes and getting sucked into novels.

“What’s going on? Did something actually happen?” Hank sounded a tad more awake now and the rustling of sheets told Connor that the other man was probably still in bed and currently sitting up. His manager had a hint of worry in his gruff voice now and Connor suddenly felt bad for his stupid kneejerk reaction to call Hank. “Fuck, sorry. No, nothing happened. I guess I—I just woke up from a damn vivid dream? I freaked out a little, it’s stupid. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie and, glancing around, Connor wondered if it wasn’t actually the truth. Did he have a scarily vivid dream because he had been so buried in his work that his mind had exploded on him and had drowned him in his own mess of ideas? That would be pretty fucked up but not more fucked up than believing that what had happened had been real. Great, now he was going crazy.

“Are you sure? You sound spooked,” Hank replied with an odd softness to his voice that Connor mostly just got to hear when the man was talking to his beloved dog. It was a voice reserved for important people, for people Hank cared deeply about and while Connor knew he was one of these few people—or the only one since Sumo didn’t count as _people_ —it made him feel guilty for bringing it out over some inexplicable nonsense.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Sorry. I guess I wasn’t fully awake when I grabbed my phone. Don’t worry, I’m sure a cup of coffee and a hot shower will fix it,” the young author said and almost believed himself, even quirking a smile.

Hank huffed but chose to believe him as well, adding a comment about how Connor should never do this again, scare him like this, before advising him to maybe take a few days off instead of stressing himself into such a freak-out and then they said their goodbyes after the young author had promised to take a break from writing for the time being.

After he hung up, Connor pushed his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, trying to calm his still hammering heartbeat. None of this made any sense but it seemed like he really had just been dreaming everything. The notebook was gone, according to the calendar it was the morning after the day he had purchased said book—or thought he had purchased it—and everything seemed like it was supposed to be.

Magic and alternate universes where the characters from his book were alive. Right.

“I’m fucking stupid,” the young author huffed to himself and shook his head before tugging his shirt over his head while heading to the bathroom to take a shower.

When the warm water beat down on him and his muscles relaxed, Connor realised how tense he had been and he tilted his head back with a sigh, hoping the shower would wash away the memories of that very stupid, bordering on crazy, dream.

He should probably get out more to keep his imagination to run away from him like that again and while slathering himself up with shower gel, Connor decided that he would head to his favourite coffee shop for breakfast. Some caffeine and a full stomach would surely make him feel like himself again.

*******

_“This guy, for example, is basically just a copy of a guy you see every other week but you never consciously noticed him. Your subconscious knows him, though, and since he goes to the same coffee shop as you do, you even know his name: Markus.”_

Connor frowned into his coffee cup when he remembered Kamski’s words and his head jerked upwards when he saw a movement from the corner of his eyes since someone with a dog was entering the coffee shop right now. If that was the guy looking like Markus, maybe with a Husky, that could mean it hadn’t been a dream, after all, right?

He felt ridiculous about being disappointed by the sight of a tall, white man with floppy, reddish-brown hair and a Dalmatian at the end of the leash in his hand. So much for that nonsensical theory. God, why did he get so hung up on some stupid dream?

Connor boredly watched the aforementioned man step up to the counter where he ordered some obnoxious concoction of a coffee before telling the barista that his name was _Marten_ , with an _E_ because apparently people always got his name wrong. Even the man’s voice was obnoxious and Connor huffed in annoyance. Yeah, right.

With a sigh, he dropped his focus back to his coffee and the still untouched croissant in front him, not feeling the least bit hungry anymore and rather like he might throw up if he dared to take the smallest bite of any food. Connor had never felt so utterly confused after waking up from a dream and his heart ached at the memory of Markus, making him wonder if he was really that lonely and messed up that he would dream something like that.

The young author took a sip of his coffee, slightly burning his tongue on the still too hot liquid before he realised that while the notebook might have disappeared, he could just head back to the store where he had bought it to maybe figure out what had happened! Not even bothering to finish at least his coffee and without deeming the croissant with a second glance, Connor was up out of his chair and out the door, ignoring the barista that called after him because he left his breakfast behind.

The shop where he had bought the notebook the other day wasn’t too far from his favourite café so it didn’t take Connor too long to get there. When he rounded the corner leading to the right street, he stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he laid eyes on the building because there was no bookstore. It was some antique looking shop with second-hand furniture and lamps, it seemed.

Connor blinked, glancing around to make sure he was in the right street but the bookstore had been right there, he was sure of it. Despite this store clearly being the wrong one, the young author still walked up to it and pushed the door open, the small bell above it announcing his arrival.

There was a young lady behind the counter, not some weird old man like in the bookstore, and Connor immediately felt stupid for walking in there because what the hell was he supposed to say? He couldn’t exactly ask if there hadn’t been a bookstore in this building just a day ago.

“Hello, how may I help you?” The lady asked before Connor could manage to leave the store again unnoticed—not that that would have actually worked with the bell above the door and all but a man could dream, right?—and Connor plastered on a polite smile while stepping up to the counter she was standing behind.

“I just,” he started, feeling awkward and like a complete moron but figured now that he was already here, he could at least try to figure out what the hell was going on, “I’m pretty sure there was some kind of bookstore here before?”

The woman blinked at him in confusion, clearly not having expected such a question but then she was back to smiling, apparently not offended that the young author didn’t care too much about her store. “We’ve been in here for a little over a year now and before that, it was a clothing store, I believe. But I don’t know if it was ever a bookstore.”

Connor wasn’t even too surprised upon hearing this but it still made him feel even crazier because that meant he definitely hadn’t been here to purchase that notebook. Could he really have dreamt all that? He had a pretty active imagination, sure, hence the job as an author, but he had never remotely ended up having such vivid dreams because of that.

“Oh, I must have mistaken it with somewhere else then, I suppose,” Connor replied with a smile and said his goodbyes right away since there was absolutely no reason to stick around and he felt even more wrong footed now than he had before. Nothing made any sense and he was starting to be sure of the fact that it had all been only in his head. There seemed to be no other explanation.

*******

About a week passed since his weird dream and Connor had figured that it could probably be chalked up to the fact that he had been buried in his work since forever, ignoring the loneliness that had crept up on him over the years. So, it seemed like a reasonable solution to spend his little break from writing by putting himself out there more which was the reason how he ended up going on a date with this guy called Donovan.

Connor had never been a big fan of dating apps but he had given it a chance and after a few rather questionable chats with guys bordering on creepy, he had met Donovan who was handsome _and_ seemed to be more normal than most people on that app.

“I’m usually more into horror and thriller novels but I think I might give yours a go sometimes,” Donovan said after hearing about Connor being a published author and he quirked a small smile in return. It was definitely a plus that the other man clearly liked to read and that he wasn’t dead set on his usual genres but willing to try something new in order to get to know more about Connor.

“Who knows, maybe you will discover your love for fantasy novels,” Connor smiled, tapping his fingertips absently against his mug before taking a sip of the still hot coffee in front of him. Of course, their first meeting was a coffee date in his favourite café because going out for dinner with a stranger seemed like way too much and Connor felt more at ease about all of this in a familiar environment.

“Maybe I will,” Donovan replied with a flirty smile and Connor had to admit that the man was quite gorgeous with his broad shoulders, dark brown hair and green eyes. He was definitely Connor’s type but for some reason, the young author didn’t feel any sort of spark, no matter how handsome Donovan was and how likeable his personality had been so far. The man was polite, flirty in an unobtrusive way and he had a good sense of humour as well but Connor just...didn’t feel it.

“So, writing aside, what else do you do?”

 _Sitting in a café with a stranger I met in an online dating app and who should pique my interest way more than he does but apparently there’s something wrong with me and I can’t figure out what that is_ , Connor thought bitterly but, obviously, didn’t say that out loud. He simply decided to chat a little about how he was into movies as well, how he liked to visit the local shelter to take dogs out for walks because he absolutely loved dogs but didn’t feel like he would be a good owner so he didn’t get one for himself so far.

When he mentioned that he liked to cook, even though he wasn’t too good at it, Donovan laughed and started telling a story about how he had tried to cook a five-course meal for his sister’s birthday party once but had ended up almost setting the house on fire. The way he told the story, all theatrical with dramatic gestures, actually drew a few laughs out of Connor and he couldn’t help but think that Donoval really was incredibly charming.

They did exchange numbers with the promise of meeting up again after their coffee date ended but Connor was fairly certain that there wasn’t anything more than friendship in this for him. But he figured he should still give Donovan a proper chance and maybe he would get out of whatever funk he was currently in after a few more dates.

He really shouldn’t get hung up on some guy he had clearly only dreamt of—the young author was very aware of that being the reason for his disinterest, even though he tried not to acknowledge it too much. It was beyond stupid anyway so Connor tried to forget about the dream and move on because what else was there for him to do?


	16. In another Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last tag I added is for this chapter, just so you're warned. I don't know if this story will end up having actual smut in it or if it will melt into a puddle of mindless fluff at the end but in this chapter, there's more or less explicit masturbation happening.
> 
> Also, this is another filler chapter and there is a lot of novel-writing happening on Connor's part which breaks the chapter into several smaller pieces. I hope it's not too messy. The next chapter won't be this choppy anymore :)

_“I know it’s a huge burden to carry so much responsibility but you’re not alone in this. We’re all right beside you and carry the responsibility with you. You won’t be standing up there all by yourself,” Simon said with a warm smile, his hand resting on their leader’s slumped shoulder._

_While most people knew Markus as the strong, confident leader who always spoke his mind with conviction, Simon had gotten to know the softer and more insecure side of their fierce leader over the past weeks. While Markus was always strong and never backed down from giving a speech in front of a crowd to give their people a voice, behind the scenes he wondered if he was actually doing the right thing and if he was actually the right person to represent the entirety of the shapeshifters._

_“I know but it doesn’t feel right for me to be the one to always speak for our people,” Markus sighed and while he had wanted change, he hadn’t anticipated becoming the leader of a revolution and the spokesperson for all the shapeshifters. “I don’t even know what I’m doing half of the time.”_

_Simon chuckled good-naturedly at that and patted Markus’ shoulder before sinking down onto the couch next to their leader. “Nobody expects you to know everything and you’ve done an amazing job so far. Even if you don’t want to believe it but you’re the best leader our people could have ever asked for. You’re brave, strong, courageous and always manage to find the right words.”_

_“You give me way too much credit. You wrote the last three speeches I gave and they were so much better than anything I could have come up with,” Markus dismissed the praise and glanced at Simon now, the hint of a smile on his face that widened even more when he saw the hint of a blush spreading across the other man’s cheeks._

 

“God, why am I even writing this nonsense?!” Connor muttered to himself and glanced at the clock to figure out how much time he had still left before he had to leave for yet another date with Donovan. The other man was absolutely amazing and the author felt like he should be head over heels for him by now but the wait for the sparks to finally fly seemed to be a waste of time.

Connor glowered at the screen of his laptop, not liking the way he was pushing the story now but he had to admit that Simon was a pretty good fit for Markus and a lot of people really liked them together, were even ‘shipping’ those two so...he knew a lot of his readers would be over the moon about a romance between Markus and his, by now, best friend.

 

_“You’re exaggerating. I may have written them but they wouldn’t have been half as good without your ability to pour so much soul into every word,” Simon muttered almost shyly and he glanced up at Markus from underneath his lashes when the other man shuffled a little bit closer, causing their shoulders to lightly bump together._

_“I’m not.” Markus had lowered his voice a little and his bi-coloured eyes were looking at Simon with an intensity that made the man avert his gaze nervously._

_Before Simon could come up with a reply, there were warm fingers grabbing his chin, tilting his head back towards the leader and his breath hitched in his throat when they were suddenly close enough for the tips of their noses to almost brush. He could basically count every single one of Markus’ freckles, they were so close._

 

Connor frowned, re-reading the last two passages and realised that the Markus in his novel didn’t have heterochromatic eyes. He had greenish-blue eyes and he didn’t have freckles. He exhaled a harsh breath and shook his head, deleting part of his writing again to type it anew.

 

_“I’m not.” Markus had lowered his voice and his greenish-blue eyes were looking at Simon with an intensity that man the man averted his gaze nervously._

_Before Simon could come up with a reply, there were warm fingers grabbing his chin, tilting his head back towards their leader and his breath hitched in his throat when they were suddenly close enough for the tips of their noses to almost brush. He felt like he was drowning in the swirl of green and blue of Markus’_ _~~soulful~~ _ _eyes._

_Simon breathed the other man’s name, not even conscious of that action, and then Markus already leant closer, warm breath fanning over Simon’s slightly parted lips before, finally,_

 

Connor basically slammed his laptop shut without even finishing the sentence, clenching his teeth and telling himself that he had stopped because he should really get ready for his date in order to make it in time. There absolutely wasn’t a nonsensical knot in his stomach about writing this scene.

Really, he had wanted to add a gay romance to his novel and those two worked very well together so why in the world did he suddenly feel all weird and reluctant about it?!

Connor pushed his fingers through his hair and got up from his desk, walking over to his wardrobe to pick the outfit he wanted to wear for his date with Donovan, their first proper dinner date, and then headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

When he was standing under the warm spray of water a few minutes later, head tilted back and eyes closed, he vividly remembered bi-coloured eyes staring at him from a chiselled face, finely shaped lips curved up into a gentle smile. That stupid dream had really messed with his head!

His fingertips skimmed over his chest and as much as he tried to push away the memories of his dream, the young author still ended up trying to imagine what it would be like if that Markus was actually real. If that Markus was real and the person he was about to meet for a date.

Donovan was sweet and all but Markus would be less reserved about flirting with him, would surely just grab his hand across the table and let everyone know that they were on a date. Markus would even pick him up from home, probably with a bouquet of flowers because he seemed to be the kind of guy that was ridiculously old-school about such things.

And after the date, Markus would accompany him home again, like a true gentleman, and while Donovan would probably do that as well, he surely would say goodnight and leave again. Markus...Connor could imagine that Markus wouldn’t just let him off without a kiss goodbye. Maybe he would be all sweet about it and just press an innocent peck to his mouth but maybe he would pin Connor gently to the wall next to his apartment door and kiss him dizzy, to let him know that he was serious and not just playing around.

“Fuck,” Connor breathed and it was ridiculous that these thoughts were actually arousing to him but he still vividly remembered the kiss before he had woken up in his bed. How Markus had pinned him to the wall and was so fierce about wanting Connor to stay. The kiss had made him weak in the knees and Connor had never experienced anything like it ever before but it hadn’t been real. It hadn’t actually happened. Markus was nothing but a figment of his imagination.

Still, the figment of imagination had managed to get him hard just by thinking about a simple kiss and Connor stubbornly chalked it up to the fact that it had been a while since he had had sex or even touched himself. He wondered how horrible of a person it made him think of an imaginary guy and jerk off to that thought when he had a date in less than two hours.

Connor figured he just had to get it out of his system and maybe that would suffice for him to finally get his head in the game—well, in the _dating Donovan_ game. His hand definitely thought so because it moved down on its own accord, slender fingers curling around his already half-hard cock and Connor tipped his head back with a soft groan. It had been way too long indeed.

It only took a few slow strokes to get himself fully hard and the young author gave up completely on the attempt to not imagine Markus. He moaned a little louder at the image of it being Markus’ hand currently wrapped around his almost achingly hard member, thumb brushing over the sensitive tip and sending shivers down his spine.

Connor really wished he wasn’t alone in the shower right now, that there was a muscular body here with him to crowd him against the cool tiles and a hot mouth to latch onto his throat, leaving a mark on his pale skin.

His breath hitched with another moan, almost a whimper, and his hand started moving faster while his grip tightened to bring him closer to the edge. Connor didn’t feel like he would last very long and the thought of heterochromatic eyes boring into his or travelling across his body spiked the heat in his lower abdomen even further.

It only took the young author an embarrassingly short amount of time to tip over the edge and hopefully he hadn’t actually moaned Markus’ name while coming all over his hand and the tiles of his shower because that would only make his problem that much more real.

*******

Connor slumped onto his bed later that evening, burying his face in the pillow with a groan and not even caring that his glasses were pressed uncomfortably against his face in the process.

The date with Donovan had been quite amazing and the man had actually accompanied him home afterwards. When he had leant in for a goodbye-kiss, though, the young author had automatically taken a small step back and tilted his head away, not very much but noticeably enough for Donovan to back off and stiffly wish him goodnight before basically fleeing the scene.

The other man was absolutely sweet, funny, gorgeous and just everything Connor would usually look for in a guy but he had to be stupid about it and refuse a kiss because that was the kind of moron he was.

“I’m such an idiot,” he muttered to himself, muffled by the pillow, before flopping onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Connor figured that maybe dating wasn’t the way to go about this but he wasn’t the guy for one-night-stands either so maybe he should go differently about his newfound insanity caused by loneliness. Maybe it was finally time to get a dog and get some company that way before he put himself out there?

He decided to call Hank in the morning and ask him for advice since the older man always seemed to find the right words to help Connor out of a silly funk, even though Hank was generally terrible at giving advice but the young author always found some sort of help in his manager’s grumpy ramblings.

For now, Connor changed into his sleep clothing and brushed his teeth before crawling into bed, absently wondering if he would ever hear from Donovan again. He wouldn’t blame the man if it wasn’t the case.

*******

_Simon breathed the other man’s name, not even conscious of that action, and then Markus already leant closer, warm breath fanning over Simon’s slightly parted lips before, finally, their lips met in a first, careful kiss._

_Their eyes fluttered closed almost simultaneously and Simon’s hand went up to rest against the side of the leader’s neck while Markus simply wrapped both arms around the other man to tug him closer._

 

Connor squinted at the screen after typing more of the scene and he really didn’t feel it at all, no matter how hard he tried. He really wanted to write a good scene that he felt pleased with but he was rather tempted to just delete the whole thing again and maybe skip the whole ‘romantic partner for Markus’ plot altogether because there was no use to add it if he simply didn’t like the way it turned out.

The cursor hovered over the text for a moment before he did highlight all of it and pressed the _delete_ button. Maybe he should try a different approach instead of this whole cliche scenario of them throwing ridiculous compliments at each other.

*******

_Markus gently cupped Simon’s face in order to tilt it upwards and examine the damage that had been done to him by the cop that was now lying dead in the hangar a few blocks away._

_“Would you stop moving already?” The leader sighed and tightened his grip a little when Simon tried to move away from the cotton ball dipped in disinfectant that Markus was trying to dab against a cut on his bottom lip._

_“It hurts,” the other man complained but tried his best to stay still now, wincing when the disinfectant stung as soon as it touched the split._

_“You’ll be healed in no time anyway but it won’t harm you to clean up the wounds first since they could get infected despite our fast healing,” Markus muttered, concentrating on cleaning the other man’s bruised face as best as possible while he was almost hyper-aware of how close they were right now. “Also, don’t get yourself kidnapped and beaten up and we won’t have to go through this again.”_

_Simon actually pouted at this and Markus rolled his eyes at him with a huffed laugh._

_“How did you even manage to find me? I didn’t even tell anyone where I was heading.” Simon tilted his head willingly when the cotton ball was dabbled against his bruised cheekbone, wincing once more when the scratches started burning._

_“I went to find you as soon as I heard you had left on your own and I figured you’d probably end up in some kind of trouble.”_

_“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.”_

_Markus chuckled again. “You know damn well that it’s not safe out there alone for us since the revolution.”_

_“Yes, I know. I thought I’d just slip out real quick so there was no need to take anyone else with me.”_

_“That worked out well,” Markus commented and snorted when Simon lightly punched his shoulder. The leader caught the other man’s hands, thumb brushing against the slowly fading bruise around Simon’s wrist where the cable tie hat cut into his skin. “I’m not even sorry the guy is dead now.”_

_Simon had been about to draw his hand back but paused at this statement and glanced up at Markus who was still staring at the bruise with an unhappy frown. Markus didn’t even have to consciously listen to Simon’s heartbeat to noticed that it was picking up speed, had already been beating a little faster due to their closeness._

_“Don’t ever do that again, you hear? Don’t leave on your own again,” Markus said with a low voice, glancing up at the other man and raising his other hand to brush his thumb against the unharmed skin right underneath the other’s cheekbone._

_“I won’t. I promise.” Simon sounded breathless and his eyes widened a little when he realised that Markus was slowly leaning closer but he didn’t move away, even tilted his head a little towards the leader to meet his lips halfway._

 

“That’s terrible, isn’t it? I think it is,” Connor complained and had to resist the urge to tear up the piece of paper with the printed scene he had written the other day. He hadn’t been able to write more than that and now he was sitting in front of a bemused looking Hank who was shaking his head at him.

“I don’t think so. It’s...sweet?” Why that came out sounding like a question, the young author didn’t know but he shrugged in reply anyway.

“Is it, though? I think it feels off.”

“I’m sure your readers won’t feel that way. They will probably go nuts that these two are getting closer. Even I know that a lot of people like them together and I think it’s a good choice to add some romance,” his manager said with a smile, re-reading the unfinished scene once more and nodding in approval.

Connor just made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat and glowered at the table before getting distracted by Hank’s dog, Sumo, who was nudging his thigh with his big head, clearly wanting some attention. The young author gently rested his hand on the Saint Bernese’s head, softly scratching behind one of the floppy ears while taking a sip of his coffee with the other hand.

They had met up in his coffee shop of choice instead of the publishing house and Hank had decided to take the chance to go for a walk with Sumo, the big dog now settled underneath the rather small table, furry body leaning against Connor’s legs while some of his drool dripped onto the young authors pant leg.

“You don’t seem too happy about it,” Hank noticed and Connor barely resisted the urge to blurt out a ‘ _no shit, Sherlock_ ’ but resorted so simply shrugging while most of his focus was on caressing Sumo.

“I don’t know. I want Markus to be happy and after everything he went through he deserves someone who loves him but...it somehow doesn’t feel quite right? I’m not sure why.” He pushed his fingers through his hair with a sigh, scrunching up his nose in displeasure. Sure, it wasn’t quite true that he didn’t know why but he didn’t need Hank to tell him that he was messed up so he chose to keep that to himself.

“Are you having one of those phases again where you feel like everything you write is crap? Well, let me tell you, this is not crap.”

Hank was always so good with words. Connor could definitely see why Hank had become his manager and not an editor or even author. Though he figured with Hank’s colourful vocabulary, it would turn out quite interesting if he ever did decide to write a novel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't even ship or like Markus/Simon so Connor cringing about it is basically my own reaction *laughs* 
> 
> I like Simon and they certainly have more chemistry than North/Markus _by far_ (which, that's not too hard to accomplish if we're being honest...) but I just can't get into the ship. Maybe it's due to the fact that I'm one of these people that, when I have my OTP, I can't ship either of them with other people. Whatever the reason, I'm with RK1K all the way and other people can ship whatever the heck they want.


	17. Silver Lining

Connor had finally finished his second novel a few days ago and had handed it in to his editor the day before so he felt a little bit lost but it had been the same after finishing the first book. He only had to wait until he would get an idea to either write another part—he hadn’t quite decided yet but thought a trilogy might be nice to wrap the story up—or maybe he would get a new idea for a new book, maybe just a story to be published along with the works of other authors.

Whatever would come next, it definitely wouldn’t have Donovan in it who had called the other day to tell him that they wouldn’t be seeing each other again since this clearly wasn’t what Connor wanted and when he couldn’t even disagree, that had been the end of the conversation. The young author had deleted the other’s number without hesitation after that, feeling like a complete douchebag and like he had led Donovan on but at least things were over because anything had really started between them.

Now, Connor had gotten up early and just finished his breakfast, cleaning up the kitchen before he wanted to head for a nearby shelter to hopefully choose a dog to adopt because he had figured he should find some happiness that way before putting himself out there for romantical pursuits because his mind was clearly not up for that just yet. Dumb reasons aside.

He was about to rinse off his coffee mug when there was a knock at the front door and he frowned in confusion since nobody ever dropped by unannounced and he hadn’t ordered anything either. Maybe one of the neighbours? Connor dried off his hands and walked into the corridor to go to the front door.

Of all the things Connor had expected upon opening the door, the sight of an almost awkward looking Kamski definitely wasn’t one of them. He gaped unattractively for a moment, he knew that, but it was absolutely impossible not do because _Kamski was real_! That meant everything had been real as well, hadn’t it?

He had done his best to push away that dream, to tell himself that it had all been in his head and he would go crazy if he indulged in the thought that it had possibly been real and now this _prick_ was just showing up at his doorstep out of nowhere as if it was in any way an okay thing to do.

“What the hell?!” Sure, it wasn’t the most graceful or polite greeting but Connor didn’t feel like wasting his manners on this self-righteous douchebag. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously when Kamski made some odd kind of little wave, flashing a smile at him that was probably supposed to look charming but only brought the familiar urge to punch the other man back.

“Hi,” Kamski greeted, not even bothering to say anything more before shouldering his way into Connor’s apartment as if he had any right to invade his personal space.

The young author glowered at the other’s back as Kamski strode through the hallway as if he owned the place which, in his mind, he probably did. _Asshole_.

“Sure, come on in, make yourself at home,” Connor muttered begrudgingly and slammed the door shut with a little more force than necessary. “What the hell do you—”

“Markus is here,” the other man stated while scrunching up his nose at the interior of Connor’s living room since it probably wasn’t glamorous enough for his liking.

The young author would have pointed out that Kamski could leave again if he didn’t like his apartment since he hadn’t been invited inside anyway but his thoughts caught on the simple statement and he blinked at the sorcerer.

“What do you mean _here_?” He barely resisted the stupid urge to glance around as if Markus would simply pop up out of thin air. His heart still skipped a beat and started beating faster against his ribs at the mere prospect of seeing Markus again. It made Connor realise how much he had actually missed the other man.

“He’s in Detroit,” Kamski explained while not actually explaining a damn thing. The sorcerer could have become a politician with his dickish, self-indulged ways.

“Care to elaborate?” Connor sighed and he wasn’t in the mood to pull every snippet of information out of the other man question-by-question. He was aware that this was simply Kamski’s kind of game—baiting him with bits of information and showing his ‘superiority’ by not giving away everything at once, dangling his knowledge in front of other people’s noses, just out of reach.

“He may have threatened me into bringing him here,” Kamski said with a disinterested sound while slumping down into Connors couch, scrunching up his nose once again and poking the cushions with the tip of his index finger as if he expected them to grow legs and jump at him, “but he didn’t specify where exactly.”

“So...Markus is in this world, in Detroit, but you don’t know where? You knew _where_ he meant but chose to simply plop him down _anywhere_ because it’s more amusing to you.” It wasn’t a question and Kamski didn’t bother to answer it anyway.

“Magic is a fickle thing, you know. Sure, I’m one of the best of my craft—if not _the_ best, might I add—but even I can’t control the outcome 100% of the time. This is one of the times where I couldn’t.” The sorcerer shrugged as if to say it wasn’t a big deal and Connor slumped against the doorframe with his shoulder.

On one hand, his heart was about to leap out of his chest with the knowledge that Markus was in the same universe as him, that he would be able to see and touch the other man again, but on the other hand he felt a sort of anxiety bubble up in his chest because he had no idea how he was supposed to be able to find Markus. The other definitely didn’t know where he lived so waiting for him to show up was out of the question.

“You should be able to find him, though, right?”

“I _could_ , yes, but I don’t want to. I already helped him more than he deserves! The guy barrelled into my home and threatened to rip my throat out with his teeth when I didn’t get you back. Such a neanderthal,” Kamski complained, absently brushing his fingertips against one of the cushions before wiping said fingers on his pants.

Connor narrowed his eyes at the sorcerer and while he would definitely get why even Markus would end up threatening Kamski, that definitely didn’t sound like him. “If that’s true, I wonder what you did to make him snap. Markus doesn’t just threaten people.”

“I’m entirely innocent!” The sorcerer replied but Connor didn’t believe him but let it slide because it honestly didn’t matter _why_ Markus might have threatened him—what mattered was the fact that it had been successful and Markus was in this universe now.

“Since you’re already making yourself at home without providing to be useful, how about you explain a few things to me. Like the whole shit you told me about having designed Markus after some guy frequenting my favourite coffee shop. That was an utter lie! Yes, there is a guy always coming to the coffee shop but his name is Marten and he’s some freckled, lanky ginger with a Dalmatian.”

Kamski had the audacity to laugh at that. “Yeah, it was quite funny how easily you believed that and I think Markus was not amused by the prospect of just being a copy of someone more real than him.”

Connor almost flinched and felt guilt creep up on him. When he finally found Markus, he had quite a bit of apologising to do but the fact that the other man was even here surely had to mean he wasn’t too angry with the young author, right?

“You really are an asshole,” Connor started matter-of-factly, unable to hold that comment back but the sorcerer didn’t seem to be too bothered by it, actually muttering something along the lines of “So I’ve been told”. This man was unbelievable.

“Am I right in the assumption that the notebook was the thing that got me to the other universe? It was gone when I got back and the store where I bought it apparently never existed.”

Kamski laughed at that again, throwing his head back a little and Connor wasn’t too amused about being laughed at by this maniac. The sorcerer was way too delighted by his confusion and the whole game he was clearly successfully playing on the young author.

“Because it did never exist.” Kamski shrugged and rested one arm on the back of the couch to look at Connor, clearly unapologetic about his doings. “I wanted to know what would happen if you ended up in your story but I couldn’t exactly walk up to you and zap you over there. Well, obviously, I _could_ have done that easily but this seemed like a more fun way to do it.”

“So it was a furniture shop already? What happened to the lady working there and who was the old man I met?” Connor asked and since this was his one chance to get some answers, he had to take it—hopefully, Markus wouldn’t be mad at him for taking forever to find him.

“It was and the shop was closed that day due to some family issues. The old man was yours truly—didn’t recognise me, did you?” Once again, the man looked way too smug and Connor felt that familiar urge to go ahead and punch him rise inside of him again. Kamski clearly brought out the ‘best’ in him.

“So instead of going the easy way to portal me into my own novel, you rather put up such a show? The list of things that make me wonder about your level of insanity is ever growing…”

“It’s part of my Charme,” the sorcerer offered with a smirk, crossing his legs. Kamski didn’t look like he planned on leaving any time soon and Connor started to grow tired of his presence and of asking questions that only led to frustrating answers.

“Right. It was great talking to you but I’ve got to go now.”

“Don’t let me keep you.” Kamski made a dismissive gesture, waving him away, and Connor narrowed his eyes.

“That means you’re supposed to move your ass out of my apartment and get lost,” he added because the other man clearly didn’t want to understand him and the young author was absolutely not in the mood for more of this nonsense. He wanted to head out and finally go look for Markus who really didn’t deserve to be lost in a world he didn’t know. Connor knew the feeling all too well, after all…

*******

Of course, it had to start raining twenty minutes after Connor had left his apartment building, walking through the city without a goal in mind. He found himself walking to the direction where the abandoned train station had been in the other universe and went towards the location of Jericho from these. Of course, these two places didn’t exist here and Markus was nowhere to be seen in either place.

Tugging the hood of his jacket over his head, the young author heaved a sigh and pushed his hands into his pockets, ducking his head a little in an attempt to avoid too many raindrops on his glasses that obscured his view. He had absolutely no idea how to find Markus or where to look even.

“Where the hell are you?” Connor murmured towards the gloomy, cloud-covered sky before hunching his shoulders against the wind that was picking up more and more. Of course, there had to be a storm coming today, of all days.

When it hit him that the whereabouts of Markus should be really damn obvious, the young author almost facepalmed and barely kept himself from falling into a jog when he turned around to head in the direction of where Carl’s home would be in the other universe. _Of course_ , that must be the place where Markus would head. He was a fucking idiot sometimes!

 

It took him what felt like forever to get to the right area and Connor felt his heart speed up the closer he got to the right street. He prayed for Markus to be there, otherwise, he really didn’t know where else to look and his heart sank when he entered the street and there was nobody to be seen anywhere.

Maybe...maybe this was just part of Kamski’s game again and Markus wasn’t actually here? Connor’s stomach twisted at that thought and he felt ridiculously close to tearing up because he had missed Markus so damn much and knowing that he had been real...it just made not being with the other man that much worse.

Connor flinched when his phone suddenly announced an incoming call from Hank, judging by the ringtone. He didn’t really feel like answering the phone right now but figured it probably had to do with his new novel—maybe the editor was being a dumbass about something once again—so he grabbed his phone from his pocket anyway while still walking down the street in hopes of spotting Markus.

“Hank, what’s up?”

‘Sorry for the unannounced call but I wanted to let you know that your fans seem to become a little bit crazy.’

Alright? What the hell had prompted this ominous call?

“Okay? What exactly does that mean?”

‘I just got a call the office by someone claiming to be _Markus Manfred_ and he wanted to talk to you. Obviously, I didn’t give him any of your contact details and told him to stop getting delusional over a damn novel—in nicer words, mind you.’

Connor couldn’t quite imagine Hank saying these things in a nice way but that was definitely the least of his worries right now. _This couldn’t be some weird coincidence, right?_

“Did the guy say anything else?” The young author had to know if Markus had mentioned anything about his whereabouts because this might have been the real Markus trying to contact him. His only chance of finding the other man.

‘He said a lot of nonsense. Something along the lines of me mentioning the Kama Sutra or a guy with that name or what the fuck ever.’ Hank hievend a long-suffering sigh. ‘He didn’t make any sense, kiddo, so why bother?’

“Hank, please. I know this seems dumb but I need to know what he said! Also...a guy called _Kama Sutra_ , really??”

That, on the other hand, really didn’t make a lot of sense. Or, assuming Hank hadn’t listened properly since he had thought the other was just some crazy person—“Wait, could it have been _Kamski_? The name he mentioned?”

‘...possibly. Listen, Connor, I don’t know what’s going on but how about we forget about this and you just be a little extra careful when you leave the house? It’s probably nothing but you never know with some people nowadays. Wouldn’t want this to turn into some Misty-type shit.’

Connor’s protest was briefly stifled by a laugh that escaped his throat. “Did you just try to make a Stephen King reference? It’s called _Misery_ , by the way, not _Misty_. How long have you been working as a manager in a publishing house again?”

‘Shut up,’ Hank groused but he sounded fonder than actually annoyed which caused a grin to flicker across Connor’s face.

“So, back to that ominous caller: did he say anything else?” Since Kamski had apparently been mentioned, there was no way the caller had not been the real Markus because Kamski wasn’t part of his books. Nobody knew about that insane sorcerer. Or, well, Kamski could have been the caller to add to his horrible little game but the young author wanted to believe that it had been Markus himself.

‘Why is this such a big deal? Are you drunk, Connor? Why would you ask about some strange guy pretending to be the main character from your novel??’

“Hank, _please_ , just answer my question. I’ll explain everything to you some other time.” He wouldn’t because that would make _him_ sound like the insane person but his manager didn’t need to know that.

‘Alright, alright. You better explain it later, though! So...I honestly didn’t really listen to most of what he was saying. I think he mentioned a location, though. McDonald street? No, that doesn’t sound right. Maybe he meant McDougall street because he said something about a church.’

Connor’s eyes widened because that was only a few blocks away from here and in the direction back to his place. He thanked Hank more profusely than strictly necessary, probably acting even more suspicious this way, but he ended the call with a quick “Talk to you soon” and this time, Connor did end up running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kamski is a dick but it's so much fun to write him. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and maybe we will see Markus again next chapter :D


	18. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I basically wrote the whole chapter today. I was sick last weekend and didn't get around to writing it during the week either so...one day late but here it finally is :)

Connor rounded the corner of McDougall street, out of breath because he had been running most of the way, and his heart sank when he didn’t see anyone down the street. It was only when he reached the church, that he decided to take a look inside since the weather was a little uncomfortable today and if he were in a place that was basically new to him, a church seemed like the best place to find shelter for a little while.

The young author took a deep breath before pushing open the heavy door to the church, carefully glancing around as he stepped into the sacred place and he almost forgot to breathe the instance he spotted a single person sitting on a bench in the middle of the left side of the room. Even just seeing the back of the person’s head was already enough to make his heart start racing.

Connor licked his lips, suddenly nervous, and it took him a few moments until he finally started moving. He was unreasonably quiet about it and the other man didn’t seem to realise he wasn’t alone anymore. Only when Connor dropped softly onto the thin cushion on the bench next to him, did Markus look up from where he had apparently been staring at his hands in his lap.

His bicoloured eyes looked so painfully sad and lost but as soon as he realised who was next to him, Markus’ whole expression changed into something openly hopeful and happy.

“Hey,” Connor greeted, his voice barely above a whisper because he was awkward like this and of course didn’t manage to say anything more meaningful than that after thinking he had lost Markus forever—after thinking everything that had happened wasn’t even real in the first place.

“Connor,” was what he got in return and the sound of the other man’s voice saying his name was enough to cause the young author’s heart to skip a small beat. He had to fight down the urge to grab Markus’ face right away and kiss him stupid but he figured that better had to wait for at least a little bit.

“I heard some crazy fan called my manager, pretending to be the protagonist from my novel, so I figured, I’d go check it out,” Connor started conversationally, a little teasing, and he honestly couldn't believe the other man was really here, in his world. He had so many questions about that but didn’t want to overwhelm Markus who was clearly struggling with the change of scenery already—Connor knew what that felt like.

“Yeah, I guess that was stupid on my part but my brain still doesn’t really register that my world is just in a book here,” Markus replied, almost sheepishly, and absently rubbed the pads of his fingers against one another. “I’m just glad he apparently contacted you. After he hung up on me, I didn’t think he would.”

“Oh, he did. But Hank didn’t bother remembering the information you gave him correctly so I somehow had to figure out where you are.”

“But you did, obviously.” Markus’ smile was so openly fond, that Connor’s chest hurt a little at the sight.

“Yeah,” he breathed and the young author couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward. He finally saw Markus again and all he could do was stare at him dumbly and have a silly small-talk when all he wanted to do was _touch_ —wrap his arms around the other man, kiss him, just be close.

“How about we leave this place? We could go to my apartment and talk there,” was what he said instead and, well, that was at least something. Connor did have quite a few questions but a more private environment seemed better for a proper talk than an empty church. Besides, Markus looked exhausted and who knew how long he had been roaming around this Detroit already—he was probably hungry and thirsty.

“Sure,” the other man replied with an oddly tentative smile that lit up a little more when Connor got up and, without even thinking about it, offered his hand to Markus. It was mostly meant to help the other up to his feet but when Markus’ hand grabbed his, their fingers slotting together as if they were meant to, the young author definitely didn’t mind that their fingers were still intertwined when they were both already on their feet.

He briefly noticed the travel bag Markus slung over his other shoulder but didn’t comment on it, simply tugged at the other man’s hand and lead him out of the church, down the street to walk the few blocks to his apartment.

“I have to admit that I convinced myself everything had just been a dream,” Connor said after a moment, carefully glancing at Markus who was already watching him with a small frown. “There was absolutely no clue that told me it had actually happened. It was all part of Kamski’s little game, apparently. Maybe I should have punched him when he showed up earlier…”

“Wait, Kamski showed up??” Markus’ eyebrows rose to his hairline and his grip on Connor’s hand subconsciously tightened.

“Yeah, he was suddenly in front of my door and announced that you’re in this world but he didn’t know where. Though I don’t know if that’s actually true. I bet he knew but didn’t feel like telling me.”

“I told him to get me to you but he obviously didn’t. I just woke up in some alley and he was nowhere to be seen,” Markus huffed and glanced up the building when they reached the one Connor lived in.

The young author pushed through the door and went for the elevator, not in the mood to take the stairs. “I’m surprised he even told me. Apropos, he mentioned something about you threatening him?”

The other man snorted in amusement and his lips pulled back, revealing Markus’ teeth in a little smirk. “I might have.”

Connor raised his eyebrows and then huffed out a laugh because Kamski clearly brought out the best in people. The sorcerer managed to piss off the most peaceful people with his attitude.

“Can’t say I’m not glad you did,” the young author admitted and pushed the button for his floor while his eyes seemed to be glued to the profile of Markus’ face. The man had a light dusting of stubble covering his sharp jawline, dark circles underneath his heterochromatic eyes and his clothes looked quite rumpled. The other’s shoulders seemed tense and Connor wondered what had happened to Markus.

“You’re staring,” Markus pointed out with some amusement, glancing at Connor who felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment but he still didn’t look away.

“So?”

Markus turned towards him and was about to raise his free hand when the elevator reached the right floor and the doors slid open with a soft _ding_.

*******

Instead of talking right away, Markus had asked if he could use the shower so Connor was now sitting a little anxiously on his couch, waiting for the other man to re-emerge from the bathroom.

When Markus entered the living-room about half an hour after he had disappeared in the bathroom, he was wearing sweatpants and a loose v-neck, bare feet padding towards the couch. His cheeks were a little bit flushed from the warm shower and Connor felt his heart beat faster at the sight. God, how could he have forgotten how breathtakingly gorgeous the other man was?

“Hey,” Markus greeted, his voice barely above a whisper, like a re-enactment of their meeting in the church. He sank down onto the couch next to Connor, his eyes a little brighter and more alive now, strong body angling towards the young author. “I wasn’t sure if you would want me here when I asked Kamski to bring me to your world.”

Straight into that conversation it was, apparently.

“Don’t worry, I’m definitely glad you’re here.” Connor smiled and it was almost relieving to know the other man was a little insecure as well. It wasn’t exactly like they had time to establish what was going on between them after kissing so it was probably natural for both of them to feel wrong-footed about this. “How come you decided to come here, though?”

Markus’ bicoloured eyes flickered down to his hands for a moment and his shoulders slumped a little, the sight causing Connor’s heart to thump painfully against his ribs and he automatically reached out to place his hand on top of the other man’s.

“Quite a lot happened since you left and...it seemed like the right time to leave.”

Connor frowned a little at that and brushed his thumb against the back of Markus’ hand, patiently waiting for the other man to elaborate further.

“The revolution is over or, well, not _over_ but a lot of people are finally willing to accept us and give us a chance so...it didn’t feel like it was necessary for me to be around anymore. Josh started to become more of a leader and I actually think he’s more capable than I could ever have been,” Markus explained softly while he watched Connor’s fingers caress his own.

“Wait...the revolution is over? But I haven’t been gone for that long.” Connor was glad to hear that the worst of it was over now but it sounded like a big step for the short amount of time since he had left Markus’ world. The revolution had only just started after his arrival, after all.

“Not that long? It’s been _months_ , Connor.” Heterochromatic eyes glanced back at him with disbelief and Connor suddenly felt a little sick. It hadn’t even been a full month for him but several months had passed for the other man? Was that the reason he had woken up the next day? Because it had been days in Markus’ world but only hours in his own?

“Oh God. I didn’t even think that time might work differently in our worlds. It hasn’t even been a month here,” the young author replied and the short amount of time had already felt crappy enough, he didn’t even want to imagine how it would be for months to pass until he finally saw Markus again.

“Oh, I didn’t consider that either...but it’s been a little over half a year in my world. And it’s not just the revolution that happened.” Markus’ voice dropped to a murmur near the end and a feeling of dread settled in Connor’s stomach because it was obvious that something bad must have happened.

“When I could finally head back home, my dad’s health had gotten really bad and he died a few weeks ago.”

Connor swallowed thickly at this news. He had really come to like Carl in the short time he had been there and the way Markus’ shoulders slumped only made it that much more real that Cake was gone now.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” the young author muttered softly and squeezed the other man’s hand gently before he finally got over himself and reached out with the other hand as well, curling it around the back of Markus’ neck. He tugged the other man a small bit closer, silently offering a soothing hug that Markus melted into without any hesitation.

As soon as Markus slumped forward and against him, Connor wrapped both arms around him and held him even closer. His heart was beating faster upon feeling Markus’ strong, warm body in his arms—it clearly didn’t care about the uncalled-for timing—and his head gently leant against the other man’s.

“At least I got to see him again before it happened. And Luther took very good care of him while I was gone,” Markus murmured against Connor’s shoulder while his arms went around the young author as well. “I offered Luther to stay in the house. Him, Kara and Alice.”

“Kara and Alice?” Connor didn’t know these names but Luther wasn’t in his novel either so he shouldn’t be surprised about more new characters or, well, people.

“I met them on my way back from Kamski’s place. Kara helped me because the police showed up and wanted to arrest me but I managed to escape and basically ran into her. She took me to her place—well, the place where she lived and worked as a maid. The guy she worked for was an absolute dick, hurting her—not just verbally—and his daughter, Alice.”

Connor grimaced at the thought of such an asshole. He would never understand how some people could act so violent, especially towards children, but there were always terrible people out there.

“Kara is a deer and Todd got her to do house-work and take care of his daughter while he would rather get drunk and take drugs. She was more of a slave to him than a maid because he’s one of those ignorant bastards that see shapeshifters and animals, not people.” There was an angry edge to Markus’ voice now but the young author really couldn’t blame him. This Todd guy sounded like a grade a douchebag.

„Todd pitched a fit when he came home and saw me. He tried to attack Kara but I knocked him on his ass and told the two to pack their stuff. It turned out that Alice wasn’t even his daughter but she‘s a shapeshifter as well so I knew nobody would probably care about us taking her away. It doesn’t exactly count as kidnapping if it’s not an actual kid.” Markus huffed and it was kind of ironic that the humans’ unwillingness to accept shapeshifters as people was actually good for something for once.

“I’m glad you could get them out of there. And the two are staying with Luther in the mansion now?”

“Yes. After we got away from Todd, I told Kara to go to Carl’s place because I knew she would be safer there than in the middle of our revolution. Carl told me that Luther took a liking to them right away and when I finally came back home they were already like a little family. It seemed only right to leave the house to them,” Markus said softly and Connor’s heart swelled with affection. The other man always tried to help everyone and did what was best for the people around him.

Hopefully, by coming here, Markus had finally done something for himself as well.

“You’re really amazing. You went through so much, lost people you loved, but you still helped everyone else.”

“Maybe. But coming here was a purely selfish decision. I just wanted to see you again and figured even if you didn’t want me around, it might still be easier to build a new life here than stay in a world where I lost so much. And I know it’s unfair to everyone else that I simply left while they keep on struggling and some of them lost so much more…”

Markus clearly felt guilty about his decision to leave and while Connor could understand that notion, he honestly couldn’t imagine that the people who mattered would see it the same way. Markus’ friends would surely understand and not blame him for leaving. He deserved a shot at happiness, just like everyone else did.

“Everything you did was always selfless, you deserve to be a little selfish for once. You did so much already and if the worst is over and you know they can handle things without you...that doesn’t make your action entirely selfish because you still considered everyone else’s situation first,” Connor replied softly and leant his head against Markus’, tightening his embrace just a little bit more. “Plus, I’m happy to have you here. If you want to stay, you’re very welcome to do so.”

Sending Markus away was definitely the last thing on his mind and now that he had the other man back, knowing everything had been real after all, the young author was determined to not give up on the other man so easily again.

“I’d like that,” was the muttered reply against his shoulder and Connor felt Markus’ fingers press gently against the small of his back where they were entangled in his shirt.

“It’s decided, then,” the young author announced and then chuckled when he noticed that the other man was apparently trying to hold back a yawn. “Come on, you must be exhausted. You can take a nap if you want to.”

Markus only hummed in return and then shuffled his position a little, gently pushing against Connor until they ended up stretched out on the couch, with Markus on top of him. The young author huffed out an amused breath but he didn’t mind that the other man apparently decided to have his nap just like this—Connor would have offered his bed but he was fine with this as well so he simply wrapped his arms properly around Markus again and enjoyed the weight and warmth of the other’s body on top of him.


	19. Something Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day late again but at least I'm kind of keeping my schedule, plus I hope this chapter was worth the wait.

Connor woke up lying on his stomach, one arm dangling off the couch while his head rested on the other arm. A blanket was draped over him and for a panicked moment, he thought it had just been another vivid dream. _Please no..._

The clanking of dishes from the kitchen, mixed with the sound of something sizzling in a pan and the scent of coffee wafting through the partly open door caught his attention before his mind could go in complete freak-out mode, though.

Connor’s heart skipped a beat while he sat up, pushing the blanket aside and he blearily realised that the pale light flooding in through the window was the early morning sun. He had actually managed to fall asleep and the for Markus intended nap had turned into some ten-hour rest. The young author was so used to staying up until the dead of night that the realisation of having slept for so long was a little disorienting.

He got up from the couch, inwardly praying that the person puttering around in the kitchen was actually Markus and he only realised he had even held his breath when it escaped his chest in a relieved, silent sigh upon seeing the other man who was completely focused on preparing breakfast.

The young author’s heart thumped away happily in his chest at the sight, not just knowing that Markus was actually here but also because the other man was making himself at home, moving around the kitchen as if he belonged there. Connor felt his lips tug into a smile as he carefully padded further into the room, snorting in amusement when Markus flinched all of a sudden, clearly not having noticed him until Connor was showing up right next to him to inspect the source of the delicious food scent.

“Did you really not hear me?” Connor teased and couldn’t help but think that it was incredibly adorable how Markus’ cheek flushed the slightest hint of pink while the other man narrowed his eyes at him.

“Obviously not,” the other man huffed but the way one corner of his mouth tugged upwards gave away that he wasn’t actually grumpy about it. “Good morning, by the way.”

Connor hummed instead of answering the greeting with words. _Good morning_ , indeed. Not only was he greeted by the sight of a still slightly sleepy looking Markus but there were pancakes, eggs and bacon in the making. Plus, there was a steaming cup of coffee sitting on the counter next to the stove that was just taunting him to take a sip.

“You do realise that’s mine?” Markus asked, amused when Connor’s fingers reached for the cup and curled around it, basically cradling it against the young author’s chest.

“So? My apartment, my cup, _my coffee_.” Just because he was a grown man didn’t mean he always had to act like an adult. It was early and he needed his caffeine fix to function. Or so he thought, until taking a first small sip of the hot beverage and Connor barely resisted the urge to spit the coffee back out again. “What in the—”

Markus’ laughter drowned out his curse and Connor placed the cup back onto the counter, pushing it away as if the beverage had personally offended him.

“This is disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, I could have told you that I didn’t get around to add milk and sugar yet but you didn’t seem to care about that a second ago,” Markus snorted and he was way too delighted by Connor’s misery.

Who in their right mind would have a cup of black coffee standing around?! Even if Markus had planned on adding sugar and milk, normal people usually did that right away.

“You could have warned me,” Connor groused before opening the cupboard to his right, reaching for the sugar dispenser and tipping it over the _cup of doom_ as he had decided to call it.

“Emphasis on _could_. I could also warn you that you’re currently turning it into sugar with coffee flavour,” the other man replied with a raised eyebrow and his hand twitched as if he wanted to reach out and stop Connor from adding to the already obscene amount of sugar he had already poured into the cup but instead, he grabbed the spatula to expertly flip the pancakes.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a sweet one.”

“I’d call it _sugar junky_ but suit yourself. I honestly hope you’re not one of these people that drown their pancakes in syrup because that would definitely cross a line.” Markus glanced at Connor from the corner of his eyes and the young author made a contemplative noise, slowly stirring his sufficiently sweetened coffee.

“I’m not a savage, you know,” the young author huffed in return but he actually did like to use an insane amount of syrup whenever he had pancakes—by the way Markus glanced at him the other was very well aware of that fact, despite his answer. “Don’t look at me all judgy like that. I like it sweet, sue me.”

“As long as you get enough exercise to counteract the amount of sugar you apparently consume,” Markus shrugged and there was something in his tone that caused Connor’s mind to go straight to the gutter. Well, far from _straight_ but…

“Not really but it’s tasty so I refuse to give up on my sugar intake just because it’s not that healthy.”

“Your line is as eloquent as that of a five-year-old,” the other man pointed out teasingly while stacking the last pancakes onto a plate, placing the bacon on another one. “And while we’re at the topic of unhealthy food, the greasy breakfast is done.”

Connor only grinned against the rim of his mug, taking another sip while grabbing the plate with pancakes with his free hand to carry it to the already laid table. It was odd, how natural it felt to wake up to Markus in his kitchen making breakfast for them and part of him hoped that maybe this would become a regular occurrence from now on. Not just because of the delicious smelling breakfast.

*******

“Wait, so...you’re just a regular human now?” Connor stared at the other man, wide-eyed, and he honestly hadn’t thought about that so far. Shapeshifters didn’t exist in this world but he had figured that Markus was still fully himself despite having come to this universe but the other man had just confessed to his senses having dulled down and to not being able to feel his animal-side anymore.

“Seems like it. It’s quite unnerving because it feels like I lost a part of myself. Well, it doesn’t just feel that way, I _did_ lose a part of myself. I was born that way and I’m not used to such dulled down senses,” Markus sighed, tapping his fingertips against his mostly empty mug while frowning at the table where the plates with their breakfast were almost fully empty despite the amount of food he had made.

Connor felt his heart constrict at the sight of Markus’ slumped shoulders and the lost expression back on his handsome features. He felt shitty for not having thought about this sooner. “I’m sorry you lost that part of yourself.”

“It’ll take some time to get used to.”

“So you really want to stay here anyway?” Connor could see how understandably unhappy Markus was about being entirely human and he knew it was probably impossible to even imagine what it must feel like to have part of your very self missing.

“I definitely want to stay here, yes. It’s a price I’m willing to pay,” Markus said after a thoughtful pause but he seemed serious about his decision and it made Connor realise how incredibly much the loss of Carl was weighing on the other man—on top of everything that had happened during the revolution. Markus had lost friends and family, fighting for equality. “I know it probably seems stupid, after everything I’ve been through to get a semblance of acceptance for my people in my world but I’m tired of fighting.”

It was obvious that Markus had made his decision but he still clearly felt bad about it—about leaving his world behind and basically fleeing from the fight he had started, from the fight that surely wasn’t even close to being over. But Connor was honestly the last person to blame him for wanting to be away from all that pain, from wanting to find happiness for himself.

“Like I already said, you’re welcome to stay if that’s what you really want,” the young author said softly and reached across the table, placing his hand palm-up on the tabletop with a gentle smile.

Markus glanced up at him and didn’t hesitate a second before placing his hand in Connor’s, tangling their fingers together and causing Connor’s heart to skip a beat. He still tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Markus really was here, that he could look at the other man’s beautiful face again and touch him.

“You know, I wanted to head to the animal shelter yesterday to hopefully pick a dog. How about you join me and we go there together today?” The young author suggested with a smile and he really wanted to take Markus’ mind off his guilty conscious. He didn’t like Markus looking sad and lost so Connor wanted to try his best to put a genuine smile back on the other man’s face.

“I hope this isn’t playing on the fact that I have been part dog before. I’m not sure that makes me any better at choosing a pet than anyone else,” Markus pointed out but his lips did quirk up, showing that he didn’t really take offence.

“I take that as a yes,” Connor grinned and gently squeezed the other man’s fingers before getting up.

They quickly cleared off the table, deciding to clean the dishes after their visit to the shelter.

*******

“I actually think that poodle-mix was really adorable,” Connor mused when they were back at his place a few hours after leaving for the shelter. He actually would have loved to just take half the dogs home right away but one would definitely be enough and he did want to do right by the animal, get to know it a little first before actually adopting one.

“I still can’t believe that was actually a mix between a poodle and a Bernese mountain dog—I honestly didn’t know that existed.”

“He was adorable and fluffy and so sweet. That’s all that matters, really,” the young author pointed out while shrugging out of his jacket and kicking off his shoes and he might have really fallen in love with that dog right away. “You can’t tell me you didn’t fall for him right away. I saw the way you smiled when he let you pet him.”

Connor turned around with a grin but paused when he found Markus just standing there, looking at him with an expression so fond and soft that it caused the young author’s heart to leap right into his throat and he forgot what he was talking about right away. He swallowed almost nervously when the other man took a step towards him but didn’t back away because he had waited for this to happen ever since seeing Markus sit in that church the day before.

“I might have,” Markus said in a low voice and Connor barely managed to catch what the other meant.

_I might just have fallen for him._

Was Markus still talking about the dog?

Connor didn’t get a chance to ask because there was a warm hand gently cradling his face and tipping his head up right before soft lips slid against his own. The young author gasped ever so softly and his eyes fluttered closed. He felt his knees were close to buckling but as if he could sense it, Markus took another step forward and tentatively crowded him against the hallway wall, effectively pinning Connor against it with his body.

Connor’s hands went up to grab the other man’s sides, tangling in Markus’ shirt to hold on to _something_ and to hold the other close, not wanting the almost careful kiss to end any time soon.

Their mouths moved together, slowly and innocently at first, but that quickly went out the window at the first nudge of Markus’ tongue against his lips. Connor opened up for the other man right away, allowing him entrance and to deepen the kiss. His stomach tingled when their tongues touched, tangling together and Connor gasped softly, tilting his head a small bit further for an even better angle.

“I missed you,” Markus murmured into the kiss while he was still gently cradling Connor’s face with his fingers, his other hand resting against the young author’s hip. “It was torture, knowing what you taste like but not being able to kiss you again.”

If Connor hadn’t already been weak in the knees from the kiss, these words would have definitely accomplished that easily. “I missed you too.”

He was about to add something else but decided that he’d rather be kissing Markus some more instead of talking so Connor slid their mouths together again, biting down on the other man’s bottom lip and grinning when the action drew a soft gasp out of Markus.

They kept on kissing against the wall for what felt like forever but the ringing of Connor's phone sadly broke the moment and he groaned in annoyance, unwilling to let go of Markus but aware that the ringtone meant the call had to do with work so he had to answer it.

“Hank, hi, what’s up?” The young author answered and gently nudged his free hand against Markus’ chest but the other man simply refused to step back, only grinning mischievously at him before leaning closer to attach his mouth to Connor’s neck.

‘The editor is done with the first chapters and sent them to me,’ his manager announced and Connor’s brain almost missed the meaning behind these words because _someone_ thought he had to start sucking on his neck which was a horrible distraction.

“Oh, great. So...we can meet up tomorrow to review it?” Connor usually wasn’t all too eager to review the corrections and comments of his editor since that woman could be quite mean if she didn’t like something but firstly, there was no way around it anyway and secondly, he really needed to cut this conversation short before it could get awkward. His halfhearted attempts to get Markus to stop clearly didn’t help—the fingers slipping underneath his shirt were a testament to that.

‘Is everything alright, kid? Usually, I have to argue with you that we should do that as soon as possible and not in a few weeks but now you’re suddenly eager to read some criticism?’

Damn Hank and his refusal to let anything slide.

“I’m fine, Hank, but I just got home a second ago and I’m kind of busy right now so text me the time and I’ll see you tomorrow,” the young author dismissed and bit his tongue when Markus bit down on his neck, sending a shiver down Connor’s spine that almost made him gasp out loud.

‘Alright. See you tomorrow then,’ Hank replied, despite sounding like he had more to add but he would probably ask Connor about it in person the next day and turn work into an interrogation about his weird behaviour.

“You’re a horrible person,” Connor announced as soon as the call had ended, softly slapping the back of Markus’ head and feeling the other man’s lips curve up into a grin against his neck.

“I know.”

“I thought you’d be more of a gentleman,” the young author sighed dramatically and raised an eyebrow at Markus when the other man finally did take a small step back, regarding him with poorly hidden amusement.

“Is that so? Well then, I guess that means I should work on my gentlemanliness and my first line of action”—he made a thoughtful expression, lips in an almost-pout that tempted Connor to kiss them—”will be helping you with the dishes.”

“You want to do the dishes _now_?!” Connor disbelievingly watched Markus kick off his shoes and disappear into the kitchen from where the sound of the tap could be heard a few seconds later. How was this guy even a real thing?

“I would say _I’d rather do you_ but that’s not how a gentleman behaves so, yes, the dishes it is.”

Connor figured he probably deserved this one and, really, he only had himself to blame anyway.


	20. Pull Me Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Saturday will be the new Friday. At least I'm still somewhat in my schedule but I don't know if that will hold in December because work will get stressful and I have no idea how much I'll be able to or in the mood for writing so I apologize in advance if I do end up not sticking to the current schedule.

“ _The tragic, self-sacrificing hero climbs onto the stage to address his people after this very successful and peaceful protest._ ”

“I did not write it like that!” Connor complained and threw a pillow at the other man but Markus’ quick reflexes made him easily dodge it, his face splitting into a wide grin.

“You might as well have but that would have cut the length of the book almost in half, I guess,” he sighed dramatically and dodged another pillow, now laughing.

Connor wanted to pout at the other man and planned on ignoring him but that idea was out of the window at the sound of the other’s laughter. His heartbeat sped up at the beautiful sight of the other man laughing so openly, expression cheerful and eyes sparkling happily. Markus was way too gorgeous to be able to ignore him.

Without another word, Connor got up from the bed and walked up to the armchair Markus had settled into while flipping through the first novel. The other man glanced up at him, confusion clear in his handsome face, but Connor simply reached out to cup said face with both hands and leant down, sliding their mouths together.

He smiled against Markus’ mouth when he felt the other’s strong hands grabbing his hip, pulling him down and getting him to straddle Markus’ lap. Connor made a small noise of protest when he felt a corner of his novel poke into his stomach, the book wedged between their bodies, but Markus didn’t seem to mind it one bit and instead of removing it, rather pushed his warm hands underneath the author’s sweater.

“Are you trying to ruin my gentlemanliness?” Markus murmured into the kiss, referring to their conversation the other day and they had both known it was only a matter of time for the ‘holding back’ to be given up on.

Connor had been determined to not be the first to give in and to somehow get Markus to break first but being around the other man and only stealing innocent little kisses was driving him absolutely crazy. The fact that the other man’s hands were roaming over his skin underneath the loose sweater attested to Markus’ feeling the same about it.

“I would never,” the young author replied in mock-offence, grinning against Markus’ lips before biting down on the bottom one, sucking on it before sliding his tongue into the other man’s hot mouth. Connor’s arms were wrapped around Markus’ broad shoulders, fingertips brushing against the nape of his neck and then moving up, playfully scraping his nails through the other’s buzzed hair.

Markus gasped into the kiss, reciprocating it eagerly and tangling their tongues together. His hands slid up Connor’s back before moving to his sides and then slowly inching further towards the young author’s chest while their kiss grew more heated.

Just when Markus’ fingertips brushed against his nipples for the first time, sending a shiver down his spine and drawing a first soft moan out of him, the doorbell suddenly rang and caused both of them to flinch at the rude interruption.

“Expecting anyone?” Markus asked, how words muffled by the fact that their lips were still touching and Connor felt his heart skip a beat because he was just as unwilling to break the kiss already. The repeated ringing demanded otherwise.

“No,” the young author sighed and pressed another proper kiss to Markus’ soft mouth before getting to his feet because nobody ever just stopped by unannounced so it could be something important. _Hopefully not Kamski again_ , Connor thought because in that case, he would slam the door shut again without hesitation.

When he opened the door and found himself face to face with Donovan, the young author felt his eyes widen and heart stumble a little. Well, this could be getting awkward really fast…

“Donovan, what brings you here?” He asked since they hadn’t exactly parted on such good terms and the other had made it pretty clear during their last conversation that they wouldn’t be seeing each other again.

“I know I said we won’t be seeing each other again but I spent some time thinking and I figured...I probably overreacted. Just because you didn’t want to kiss me that evening doesn’t give me the right to act as if you did something wrong. You surely have a reason for your reaction and if you’re willing to give me another chance, we could go out again and take it slower,” the other man offered with a hopeful smile.

Connor really did feel like an asshole about the whole thing again because Donovan probably thought he had some kind of commitment issue after maybe some other relationship gone wrong before or something else along those lines. Not that he had gone out with Donovan to distract himself from the man that actually held his heart, to take his mind of someone he thought he couldn’t have and therefore hadn’t been able to really give the other man the chance he deserved.

“Well, I—” How in the world was he supposed to tell Donovan that he was actually, probably, _hopefully_ seeing someone else now? If it wasn’t for Markus stealing his heart, Connor surely would have agreed to another date because he did like the other man and he probably could have come to like him romantically as well but now that Markus was here, that wasn’t likely to happen. Plus, the young author honestly didn’t care about going on another date with anyone that wasn’t Markus.

“You don’t have to decide right away. Just...think about it and give me a call, okay?” Donovan asked with another way too kind smile and held out a piece of paper that had his number scribbled on it, correctly assuming that Connor had deleted it already.

The young author was just about to take the cowardly way out and just agree to think about it but Markus apparently decided he had been gone for a long time by now and called his name, stepping into the hallway. “Is everything alright?”

Markus heterochromatic eyes flickered from Connor’s face to Donovan, down to the other man’s hand that was hovering mid-air, holding the piece of paper with his number out to the young author.

Connor breathed out a not very eloquent “Uhm” because, yeah, this got even more awkward than he had expected. He couldn’t really read Markus’ expression but it was obvious that the other man knew kind of what was going on.

“Oh, I didn’t know you’re having a visitor. I probably shouldn’t have shown up unannounced but I admittedly didn’t have your number anymore and figured coming here is really the best way to get in contact with you again,” Donovan said, trailing off a little near the end and lowering his hand with the piece of paper, clearly understanding that his number probably wasn’t needed anymore.

“Yeah, I—he’s—” How on earth was Connor a remotely well-known author when speech always seemed to fail him whenever it was crucial to express himself carefully and properly? He had honestly never considered these two ever meeting each other and it wasn’t like he had actually done anything wrong but it still felt that way.

Markus and he had shared one kiss, never getting the chance to name whatever it was between them, and he had gone on a couple of dates with Donovan while thinking he would never see Markus again. Still, Connor oddly felt like he had somehow cheated on _someone_ in this situation.

“I’m Markus,” the other man simply took over smoothly, stepping towards the door and offering his hand with a friendly smile. Donovan, still too perplexed about this whole situation, automatically took the offered hand and shook it while muttering his own name.

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” Donovan added, his shoulders now holding a barely visible tension and Connor wished the other man would just leave already but that didn’t seem to be happening in the next moment.

“It’s okay. We were just talking about Connor’s novel,” Markus replied dismissively, clearly not even bothering about standing in front of a stranger with bare feet, loose sweatpants and a tank top. The outfit definitely didn’t look like he was just a friend paying a visit and part of Connor was even glad about that fact, no matter how shitty it was towards Donovan but hopefully, it would give the other man the right impression.

“I started reading the first book of _Escape_ after I met Connor. It’s really something and his writing is great,” Donovan said but sounded rather awkward, probably not sure how to get out of this situation without making it seem like he was turning tail but also not comfortable sticking around for a casual chat. Not that Connor could blame him for that. He wouldn’t want to be in Donovan’s shoes right now.

“Can’t disagree. Though I think he likes to describe scenarios a little too much at times,” Markus added with a small smirk and glance to Connor who only breathed out a huff because he knew the other man was mostly referring to the beginning of the novel—more precisely, the description of Carl’s mansion and the stupid giraffe because he had somehow ended up describing that in great detail for...some reason. Ever since Markus had pointed it out to him while flipping through the first book, the young author couldn’t get it out of his mind.

“It’s what makes his writing especially charming, though,” Donovan pointed out and Connor wondered what the hell was even going on right now. Why were these two discussing his writing right in front of him or at all, really?

“Alright, while I’m flattered you feel the need to discuss my writing, there’s not really the time for that now. Markus, you know we have to get ready for...that thing in a bit,” Connor interrupted, not in the mood to witness this awkward trainwreck for much longer and he hoped Markus would play along since they didn’t actually have anything planned for today but it didn’t seem like Donovan felt like leaving on his own accord.

“That thing?” Markus echoed with obvious amusement and the young author could basically feel how the other man was contemplating to deny that there was anything to get ready for but he then snapped his fingers as if he had remembered something. “Right, _that_ thing. Yeah, you’re right, I almost forgot.”

Markus flashed one of his disarming smiles at Donovan now while casually draping his arm around Connor’s shoulder, resting some of his weight against the young author who barely resisted the urge to poke the other’s side with his elbow. “I’d love to chat some more but, as you heard, we don’t have the time.”

Donovan shuffled from one foot to the other, his expression a mix of disappointment but also relief upon being given an out of the situation. He muttered an apology about having shown up unannounced once more, stuffing the paper with his number back into his jacket pocket and waving a little awkward before saying his goodbyes and turning around.

Markus nudged the apartment door shut and huffed out a chuckle while Connor failed to duck away from the other’s arm that was tightening its hold around his shoulders now. “So, he seemed...nice. Ex?”

“No, we...we didn’t get that far,” the young author sighed and now he did nudge his elbow against Markus’ side who made a small noise of protest before using the arm around Connor’s shoulder to turn him around, gently pushing him against the wall of the hallway. Connor’s heart skipped a beat, reminded of the day before where they had ended up kissing in almost the exact same spot after returning from the animal shelter. His traitorous lips immediately longed for the feeling of Markus’ soft mouth against them.

“We went on a few dates but I...wasn’t really feeling it so I refused to kiss him and we decided to not see each other again,” the young author explained, even though he knew he didn’t have to justify anything and Markus clearly also didn’t ask for a more thorough explanation.

“Is it bold of me to assume—or hope—that I’m the reason for that?”

Connor felt the tension bleed out of him at that question and Markus’ playful grin, huffing out a laugh and raising his eyebrows at the other man. “It’s certainly a very cocky assumption. Donovan is really a great guy and quite charming, plus very handsome.”

“So am I,” Markus pointed out cheekily, leaning further into Connor’s personal space and resting his hand against the young author’s hip to keep him pinned against the wall while his other hand tugged at the hem of Connor’s sweater, slowly sneaking his slender fingers underneath the soft material and brushing them against warm skin. “I’m definitely charming, handsome and have an amazing personality.”

“Let’s not forget about modest,” Connor grinned while he tried not to lean into Markus’ gentle touch but he felt a shiver run down his spine as the other man’s hand pushed further underneath his sweater, touching his stomach and slowly sliding up towards his chest.

“That as well, very much so. And since I’m also a gentleman, as we already established, I’d definitely never boast about how absolutely amazing I am in bed,” Markus said with such a straight face and seriousness, that Connor couldn’t help but start laughing. This man was beyond ridiculous and his words really shouldn’t be as charming as they were.

“You’re the worst,” the young author chuckled and his breath hitched at the first touch of rough fingertips against his sensitive nipple, causing him to drop his head back against the wall with a barely suppressed gasp.

“I agree, I’m actually a terrible person and you’re clearly suffering greatly because of that.” Markus pressed his grin against the pale line of Connor’s neck, biting down on the soft skin and pinching the other man’s already hardening nipple as if to underline his very much untrue words.

 _Suffering_ really wasn’t the word coming to Connor’s mind right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone interested in me continuing the scene? I'm contemplating writing just the continuation as a short chapter so people who don't care about reading what these two get up to next could just skip the "bonus chapter" without missing anything from the story. Thoughts? :)


	21. Pull Me Closer [Bonus]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, about that "short" bonus chapter...It kinda got a little longer.
> 
> Heads up: this chapter is basically just PWP so if anyone doesn't want to read a sex scene, just skip it :)

Connor had to remind himself to keep breathing, even though having Markus on his knees in front of him turned that endeavour into quite the difficult task to accomplish. A few moments ago, the young author had just been about to suggest to take this to his bedroom but the words had gotten tossed away together with his shirt after the other man had tugged the piece of clothing over his head.

His mind felt like a broken record; starting on a thought, looping part of it without being able to finish it until he completely gave up on trying to push through the fog of lust spreading through his whole body.

“Markus.” It seemed like the other’s name was the only coherent thing his tongue was still able to produce and Connor’s fingertips brushed against Markus’ buzzed hair, unable to find purchase in the short curls so he ended up gently scraping his nails over the back of the other man’s head, grinning at the rewarding groan the action elicited in return.

He breathed out a mindless “Fuck” when Markus tugged his already opened jeans a few inches further down, allowing him better access to the young author's hipbone to nip on with his soft lips and blunt teeth.

“We’ll get to that eventually,” the other man rasped against his skin, sending another shiver of arousal down Connor’s spine who started having his doubts about being able to last long enough for that to happen.

Markus hadn’t even put his hands on him beyond teasing his by now erect nipples and kissing what felt like every inch of his upper torso but was already driving him absolutely crazy with even the most innocent of touches.

There was absolutely nothing innocent about the way Markus’ hands were currently massaging his thighs, though, slowly inching further up while he was apparently dead-set on bruising the skin covering the jut of Connor’s hipbone, judging by the way he sucked on the pale skin.

“I might not”—Connor moaned softly when Markus fingertips casually brushed against the thin material of his boxer briefs that did absolutely nothing to hide the effect their doing had on him—”not last that long.”

The young author was almost proud he had managed a full sentence and his fingertips gently dug into Markus’ scalp when the other man chuckled raspily, hot breath fanning over the wet trails his lips and tongue had left on Connor’s skin with his previous ministrations.

“Don’t worry, we have all the time in the world,” Markus replied with an audible grin, glancing up at the other man with blown pupils and a mischievous grin that held a promise of more than just one round of sex. Which Connor was very much in favour of.

They hadn’t even started properly and the young author was already sure Markus was in the process of ruining him forever because this was already so much more mindblowing than anything Connor had experienced so far—which was either a big compliment to Markus’ talent or a sad testament to Connor’s sex life up until now. He preferred to think the other man simply was _that_ good.

“In that case, keep—”

Markus pressed an open-mouthed kiss against Connor’s crotch, his warm breath seeping through the thin fabric with ease and causing the young author to choke on his words, moaning and dropping his head back against the wall with a soft _thump_.

“You were saying…?” Markus teased with another deep chuckle and Connor didn’t have to open his eyes to know the guy was grinning up at him like a cat that got the canary. _Such a damn tease._

“I…” He had absolutely no idea.

Markus chuckled again but went back to mouthing at Connor’s fabric covered length while hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of the other’s jeans to tug them further down until the item of clothing was slipping down to Connor’s ankles on their own accord.

“I really want to take my time with you but I also really just want to make you come undone and hear you moan my name while you come,” Markus announced, almost conversationally, before his teeth caught the hem of Connor’s boxer briefs to sinfully tug them out of the way. His fingers took over a moment later, pushing the briefs down completely and then trailing his fingers from the back of Connor’s ankles up to his thighs, leaving goosebumps all over the young author’s legs.

“I’m on board with either,” Connor breathed and he was probably more on board with the latter because it would mean a lot less teasing and ‘suffering’ on his part.

“How about both?”

Yeah, Markus definitely wanted to kill him and he didn’t even give Connor a chance to reply because his lips were suddenly brushing against the base of the young author’s erection and every attempt at formulating a response went right out of the window.

Connor groaned loudly and he could feel his cock twitch in anticipating, his whole body thrumming with the need for _more_ because it had been way too long since the last time he had been intimate with anyone and if Markus already managed to make this feel so incredible…

“I love how responsive you are,” the other man rasped and parted his lips a little before pressing them back against Connor’s throbbing length, dragging his mouth up towards the tip and catching a bead of precum with his tongue.

“ _Oh God_ ,” the young author moaned and his knees had felt like jelly already but by now it was getting really hard (no pun intended) to convince his legs to keep on supporting his weight. His fingertips pressed against the back of Markus’ head, absently hoping he wasn’t applying a painful amount of pressure but he had to hold on to _something_.

Connor was determined to keep his knees from buckling but then Markus’ soft lips wrapped around his sensitive tip and it only took the barest hint of sucking for the young author’s legs to betray him. His cock slipped out from between Markus’ sinful lips as he slid to the ground, his back still pressed against the wall.

“Hey there,” Markus grinned with a teasing twinkle in his dark eyes while his slightly rough hands rearranged Connor’s legs, spreading them out to either side of him.

“You’re the worst,” Connor gasped with burning cheeks, embarrassed by the fact that the other man had literally managed to knock him off balance so easily.

“Your reactions tell otherwise.”

 _Cocky bastard_.

Markus laughed and rested his warm hands on top of Connor’s thighs now, brushing them against the soft skin until his thumbs curved around the dips of his hipbone. “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom because I really want to suck you off but lying down in the hallway isn’t too appealing.”

This time, Connor couldn’t hold back a breathless chuckle himself and he was very much in favour of a change of scenery. If Markus did want to take his time with him, a more comfortable surface seemed like a good choice. “We should.”

Before he could even _think_ of somehow getting back to his wobbly legs, Markus took the decision from him by tugging Connor into his lap, arranging the author’s long legs around his hip and then getting to his feet without much more than the slightest hint of a sway. How this man managed to get up while supporting Connor’s weight was absolutely beyond him but it was also ridiculously hot.

“You’re still wearing way too many clothes,” Connor noticed when the other’s hands cupped his butt, pulling him closer and trapping the young author’s hard cock between their bodies where it brushed against the soft material of Markus’ tank top, staining the dark fabric with precum.

“Believe me, that won’t be the case in a minute,” the other replied with an unspoken promise in his raspy voice and Connor licked his lips, drawing the attention of Markus’ bi-coloured eyes to the movement and inviting him to bite down on Connor’s bottom lip while slowly walking them towards the bedroom.

When they reached the bed, Markus brushed a feathery kiss to the hollow of Connor’s throat before gently setting him down on the soft mattress.

“Now that’s a sight I could get used to,” he commented with a smirk, his heterochromatic eyes unabashedly roaming over the young author’s exposed body and lingering on Connor’s flushed cock that was curving up to his stomach. Markus licked his lips but instead of getting back to what he had started, he reached for the hem of his tank top to smoothly tug it over his head.

Connor's throat felt dry at the sight of all those well-defined muscles of Markus’ stomach and chest shifting, tensing with the movement, the sight alone causing his erection to twitch and leak a droplet of precum onto his belly. His fingers itched to reach down and touch himself but Connor could imagine that the other man would tell him not to.

Markus took his sweet time hooking his thumbs into the hem of his sweatpants, slowly pushing them down and at first, the young author thought the other’s boxer briefs had simply been tugged down alongside the sweatpants but he quickly realised that there were no boxer briefs.

The other man’s eyes curiously flickered up to his face when Connor failed to muffle a soft groan. The young author shut his eyes and tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Markus had gone commando. That he had been around Markus for hours while the other had worn nothing underneath his low hanging sweatpants. Now _that_ was an image he would surely carry with himself for quite a while.

“Thinking of something nice?” Markus’ amused voice drew him back to reality and caused Connor to snap his eyes back open, cheeks heating up without his permission. “Very nice, apparently.”

This man was positively shameless and _taking way too long to get naked, dammit!_

“I could show you how nice if you hurry up and get over here already!” The young author groused, uncaring that he was obviously impatient to get his hands on every inch of Markus’ skin.

“So bossy,” Markus sighed dramatically but finally kicked off his sweatpants as soon as they pooled around his ankles and Connor’s eyes immediately zoned in on the other’s hard member that was sadly still very much out of reach, taunting him with a glistening drop of precum balancing on the pink tip.

“Either you move your ass and dick here right this instant or I won’t let you get on me,” Connor warned, figuring that such a threat might do the trick.

“As long as that doesn’t mean you won’t get on me either, fine by me,” Markus replied smoothly, eyes crinkling with the mischievous grin on his soft lips and Connor actually _whimpered_ because that thought alone could probably push him over the edge already.

*******

Connor was admittedly a little baffled when the other seriously handed the lube to him after another while of making out and rubbing up against each other. A lot of the time, he did actually prefer to bottom but there was absolutely not a single fibre in his body that could possibly deny Markus’ request though he was determined to switch things up for a later round because the way the other rolled his hips against him held a promise that he would not accept missing out on.

Preparing Markus proved to be yet another challenge for his self-control and feeling the other man’s muscles tighten around his fingers, imagining them trapping his cock the same way, almost tipped him over the edge right away. Everything about Markus drove him crazy and it only took one gasped “I’m ready” and the other man reaching for a condom for Connor to flip them around.

“How do you want it?” The young author asked, barely recognising his own voice since it was all deep and raspy. His eyelids fluttered almost all the way down when Markus unabashedly reached out to roll the preservative onto him, taking his sweet time while doing so. Connor’s lips parted around a moan and his fingernails dragged against Markus’ outer thigh.

“Like this,” Markus groaned and wrapped his long legs around Connor’s hip to draw him in further, causing the young author’s already slicked up cock to lightly bump against the other’s perineum. “I want to see you.”

 _Yeah, Markus would most definitely be the death of him_.

Connor gently tapped his fingers against Markus’ hip, silently prompting him to lift it a small bit so he could elevate it with a cushion and provide for a more comfortable angle for both of them. He was about to ask if the other needed another moment but the expression the heterochromatic eyes met him with answered the unspoken question impressively well.

His heart was hammering against his ribs as he positioned himself, nudging his tip against the other’s twitching entrance before slowly pushing into the tight heat. Connor groaned when his sensitive tip was enveloped by Markus’ muscle and it took quite some self-control to pause instead of pushing further in right away.

After giving Markus some time to adjust, Connor slowly inched further into him, pausing every now and then whenever he noticed even a hint of discomfort in the other man’s expression and it took a while until he finally bottomed out. The young author was breathing heavily, his fingers pressed into the heated skin of Markus’ hips while he tried to gain control over his breathing again.

Markus’ muscles clenched up around him, deliciously massaging his hard cock and drawing breathy moans out of Connor. The other man felt absolutely incredible—so hot and tight—and Connor already loved having sex with Markus, not just because of the sensation but also because of the way the other man looked under him right now.

Markus’ eyes were half closed, pupils dilated to the point where only a thin ring of brown was left around them. His cheeks were flushed a deep pink, muscular chest glistening with the finest sheen of sweat that honestly just made Connor want to lick the other’s soft skin.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he breathed out, trailing his long fingers across Markus’ toned stomach up to his well-defined pecs, brushing against his lover’s hard nipples.

“Look who’s talking,” Markus replied with a smirk, clearly enjoying his current view as well while his hands rested against Connor’s sides. “You feel amazing.”

Markus’ hands moved up and down the young author’s sides, gently scratching the soft skin along Connor’s ribs, causing him to shudder with a soft gasp and he retaliated by teasingly moving his hips a small bit.

“Fuck,” was Markus’ groaned reaction and he arched his back a small bit, moving his own hips as well and tightening his muscles to stimulate Connor.

The young author took that as the sign that it was okay to start moving properly and he didn’t waste any time, pulling almost completely out of Markus before thrusting back in with a loud moan, his whole body shuddering with the wave of arousal sweeping down his spine.

When Markus’ hands moved upwards to grasp his shoulders and pull him down, Connor followed the movement willingly and their mouths slid together in a hungry, sloppy kiss while his hips build up a slow but strong rhythm, thrusting into the other man’s welcoming body with wet slides.

“I tried to imagine”—Markus muttered against Connor’s lips but was interrupted by a deep moan escaping his throat—“what this would feel like.”

Connor softly bit down on the other’s bottom lip, his own mouth curving up into the hint of a smirk because who wouldn’t be flattered by someone like Markus imagining having sex with them? Nobody in their right mind, that was for sure.

“And the verdict so far?” He gasped back, brushing the tip of his tongue along Markus’ upper lip this time and pinching the other man’s left nipple between his thumb and index finger, revelling in the sensation of Markus shuddering against him with another deep groan.

“Better. _Much_ better.”

The young author laughed breathlessly at that and his next thrust became a little faster, harder and deeper, drawing loud moans out of both of them.

“Markus, _ah_.” Connor bit his bottom lip when the other man met his thrusts, making him more aware of the moist drag of Markus’ hard cock rubbing against his stomach and causing the muscles around his own member to massage him even more intensely.

Markus held onto his shoulders, blunt nails slightly digging into Connor’s skin and he stole another almost bruising kiss from the young author’s lips while simultaneously wrapping his legs around Connor’s hip. Before the young author caught up with what was happening, Markus was already flipping them around and suddenly had Connor’s hands pinned to the mattress on either side of his head, cheekily grinning down at him.

It was absolutely sexy to have Markus on top of him, rolling his hips in sensual movements that drove Connor absolutely crazy with lust and had him moaning the other man’s name like a prayer since every other word had apparently left his mind.

“Fuck, look at you,” Markus groaned and his expression was awed as his movements became a little faster. He raised his hips almost to the point where Connor slipped out of him before slamming back down, his head tilted back in pleasure.

Connor watching the other man’s flushed cock bob with the movement, some more precum leaking from the tip. The sight was way too enticing not to reach out and wrap his fingers around the hard length, tugging on it.

The way Markus moaned and his muscles tightened around Connor in reaction to the touch had the young author moan again as well and when Markus sank back down on him next, Connor pushed his hips up to thrust into the other man.

When Markus moaned even louder and spilt more precum onto Connor’s stomach, he knew he had hit just the right spot inside of the other man and tried to angle his hips up the same way over and over again. The young author could already feel the intense heat pooling in his lower abdomen, telling him that he was this close to tipping over the edge, and he wanted to get Markus off right along with him.

“ _Connor_.” The way Markus moaned his name was like music to his ears and it only took a few more strokes of the other man’s cock, a few more upwards thrusts, and Connor could feel the hot release spilling over his fingers and splattering against his torso, pushing him over the edge mere seconds later as well.


	22. Laws of Seduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter because I didn't quite know where to go next but I don't think anyone really minds some playful, sexy goofiness? They certainly deserve it after everything they've been through so far.
> 
> Sexual content at the end of the chapter again, though not as explicit as in the last one (I suppose? lol)

“That’s a good look on you.”

Connor jumped in surprise and whirled around to spot a grinning Markus leaning in the door to the bathroom, arms crossed over his well-defined chest that was hugged by an unnecessarily tight v-neck.

He hadn’t even heard the other man come back from his latest appointment to look at a fancy apartment in the city—at first, when Markus had suggested he better go find a place for himself, the young author had argued that he didn’t mind the other man living with him _at all_. Markus was right about it being quite soon to be full-on living together right away and that Connor’s apartment was a tad too small for two people in the long run so he had given up on trying to convince Markus to not go apartment hunting.

Markus, ridiculous as he was, had not only brought a small share of clothes with him to this universe but he had stuffed quite the big amount of money into his duffle bag as well, hoping that Connor hadn’t made up some new currency for his novel. As it was, Markus’ world also used good old dollar bills and so the guy might be new to this version of Detroit, but he was almost just as loaded as in his and well-off enough to take his time to settle in before having to look for a job.

“You should wear this more often,” Markus added with a cheeky smirk and tilted his head, leaning it against the doorframe as well while his heterochromatic eyes slowly dragged up down Connor’s body who felt his cheeks warm up a little but his lips tugged into a grin of his own.

“You mean _close to nothing_?”

“I wouldn’t mind you losing the sweatpants as well but this is definitely a sight to behold,” the other man agreed and Connor rolled his eyes fondly.

It didn’t matter that Markus had been around for close to two weeks by now, it still felt completely new to the young author and he couldn’t get enough of having the other man around, bickering with him and simply basking in the sight of how incredibly gorgeous Markus was. He caught himself trying to memorise every little thing about the other man, every small interaction between them, unconsciously scared of this being over again in the near future so he needed something to hold on to.

“I bet you wouldn’t,” Connor huffed and turned back towards the washing machine to finish stuffing the pile of clothes inside. Before he was able to straighten back up and close the door, though, there was suddenly a pair of hands unabashedly grabbing his butt that was on tempting display for Markus and Connor bit his bottom lip to reign in the stupid grin threatening to take over his face. “I’m trying to do some housework here if you failed to notice.”

Markus’ answering chuckle was more of a low rumble as his fingers teasingly pressed against the rather thin material of Connor’s sweatpants, nails scraping against the fabric and sending a shiver up the young author’s spine. “Oh, I noticed.”

Connor huffed another laugh and returned to an upright position, pushing the door of the washing machine shut and tilting his head back to glance at Markus from the corner of his eyes as the other’s hands now drifted to his hips, pulling him back against the other man’s chiselled front.

“Don’t let me keep you from your housework. Pretend I’m not even here,” Markus suggested with a teasing note to his voice while his fingertips pressed against Connor’s skin right above the waistline of his low-hanging sweatpants. He wondered if the other man had already figured out that he was wearing nothing underneath the sweatpants but he could imagine it was definitely what Markus was hoping for.

“Yeah, like that’s realistic,” Connor replied and he didn’t even care that he sounded stupidly breathless. While he definitely loved having an active sex-life again and getting naked with Markus, he almost enjoyed moments like these even more. The way Markus managed to get him all hot and bothered with some simple touches and words that weren’t as forward as they could be but easily conveyed the other man’s intentions.

“I’m flattered to hear my presence is impossible for you to ignore.” Markus’ soft lips brushed against the nape of Connor’s neck as he spoke, mouth clearly curved up into another smirk as he tugged the young author’s hips closer, causing Connor’s butt to connect with his groin. “Don’t forget about the detergent.”

Connor couldn’t help but laugh at the conversional remark but he had to admit he had been this close to just starting the washing machine, forgetting just that. He huffed out a breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding and grabbed the bottle with the detergent, pouring some into the cap and dumping it into the designated compartment, pushing it shut afterwards and then finally starting the already chosen program.

“Well done.”

The author was about to point out that he didn’t need praise for accomplishing such a simple, mundane task but Markus’ hands inching forwards, closing in on his crotch, made the comment dissolve at the tip of his tongue right away.

“You could help me, you know? The apartment still had to be mopped and I realised the windows are really dirty,” Connor mentioned as if he wasn’t currently feeling like a horny teenager and had to fight against the urge to grind back against the other man, frustrated about the lack of skin contact that was currently happening.

Markus chuckled against his skin, scraping his teeth against the nape of Connor’s neck before pressing another open-mouthed kiss against it. “You’re right, since I’m already allowed to stay here for free, the least I could do is help with the housework.”

It was the damn dishes all over again. Connor should have known to keep his mouth shut and he almost _whined_ when the other man seriously stepped back, firm warmth disappearing from where it had been pressed up against the young author’s back and he wondered how the hell Markus managed to be like this. The man’s self-control was a little too good for Connor’s liking and he was starting to wonder if he could somehow get it to break.

Two could play the same game, after all.

*******

“You’re the worst person!” Connor glowered at Markus who simply tilted his head back, long neck on display and taunting him to bite into the soft skin, and started laughing. If he hadn’t already been irrevocably head over heels for the other man, this sight would have definitely done the job just fine.

Some days, there was the sadness of Carl’s loss and the guilt of leaving his people behind clearly looming over Markus’ head but right now, the other man was happy and carefree, laughing with open joy. Seeing the other man like this did scary things to Connor’s heart and...other parts of his body as well.

“I swear it was an accident,” Markus got out between laughter and tugged at his partly drenched shirt where he had somehow managed to pour water on himself while cleaning the living room window.

Connor squinted at the other man in disbelieve since he had his clumsy moments but never had he managed to basically get drenched while cleaning the windows. To him, this seemed rather like Markus had somehow planned all of this—he was wearing a light-grey v-neck after all, one that was almost see-through due to the wetness of the fabric now, clinging to Markus’ pecs and abs.

“You’re a dirty liar,” the author replied because he honestly didn’t believe that this was indeed just an accident and not an evil ploy to get him riled up. Not that it actually needed Markus in a wet shirt to get that job done…

“Am not,” Markus laughed and then just grabbed the hem of his shirt to tug it over his head as if that was helping the situation in any way.

“I think we’re done with the housework for now. You’re clearly incapable of cleaning the windows and I seriously can’t watch this farce any longer,” Connor sighed, breathing out a long-suffering sigh and ignoring the amused gleam in Markus’ eyes that told him the other man knew _exactly_ what was going on.

“I’m almost done and I’m not quitting in the middle of something. You should know that much by now.”

Connor was sure there was an innuendo hidden somewhere in that statement and barely managed to swallow the groan building in his throat, threatening to fall from his lips. This guy was too much.

The young author was determined to turn around and finally get to mop the bathroom if only to get away from the temptation that was Markus but before he could turn around, the other man started wiping down the glass pane of the window, stretching up to reach the upper part of the window and Connor’s mouth went dry, eyes glued to the sight of Markus’ muscles shifting with every movement.

Connor hated to love this little game that was becoming some kind of _thing_ for them lately. Both of them knowing exactly what they were doing and what they were leading up to but too stubborn to just go for it, trying to get the other to break first. The young author had to admit that he was mostly the one to cave and he refused to let that happen again today.

“Careful, your eyes might pop out of your head one of these days,” Markus teased when he caught Connor still staring at him and the young author narrowed his eyes, glaring at the other man.

“I hate you,” he announced, lacking any witty comeback to reply, and turned around to finally leave the room before he ended up doing exactly what Markus was taunting him to do. He would not be the one to break this time!

Connor refused to admit that the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement when he heard Markus’ laughter following him all the way to the bedroom—the bathroom floor could wait, he’d rather take care of making the bed for now.

*******

“I won.”

“I wasn’t aware we were having a contest,” Markus chuckled and the sound soon ended in a breathless groan when he pushed his hips forwards again, thrusting back into Connor with a slow, deep stroke.

“Keep on telling yourself that,” Connor gasped, fingers curling into the messy sheets while moving his hips back to meet the other man’s thrust, feeling the telltale heat of a fast approaching orgasm building in his lower abdomen. “You still lost this round.”

“Doesn’t feel like a loss, though,” Markus replied with another slow thrust, burying himself as deeply as possible in the tight heat of Connor’s welcoming body, biting down on the pale skin between the other man’s shoulder blades, next to a bruise he had left there earlier. His hands slipped from the young author’s hips to his front, one hand easily finding Connor’s nipple while his other fingers curled around his lover’s throbbing cock.

He didn’t leave any more room for Connor to reply, setting a fast pace with his hand while still keeping his thrusts slow, successfully pushing the other man over the edge with just a few more movements. Markus toppled over the edge only moments later, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he continued to thrust into the other man through his climax.

“I think it might be a good idea to live separately for a while,” Connor announced when he was finally able to string a few words together without gasping for breath and he could almost feel Markus’ confusion as the other man’s arms tightened around him as if they weren’t already pressed seamlessly together, their intimate connection still intact. “I wouldn’t get any housework done otherwise.”

“The laundry is done, the kitchen is mopped and half of the windows are cleaned—I wouldn’t call that nothing,” Markus pointed out, audibly trying to stifle his laughter while his fingertips drew absent patterns against the warm skin of Connor’s stomach, peppering the other man’s shoulder with feathery kisses.

“Could have been more if it wasn’t for _someone_ starting a wet t-shirt contest.”

“I told you, that was an accident. And at least I didn’t _accidentally_ manage to lose my clothes while making the bed,” Markus pointed out with a snort and dragged his fingernails across Connor’s chest, grinning when he felt the other man shudder and squirm in return.

“It could happen to the best of us,” Connor sighed dramatically and then stretched a little, pressing his back further against Markus’ chest and sighing happily at the sensation of their still moist skin rubbing together. They were in definite need of a shower but he figured that could wait another few minutes.


	23. Purely Coincidental

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm late with this once again but a 50+ hour work week and driving to my hometown kind of kept me from writing but here we are now with the next part :)

Connor would have probably laughed about Markus’ obvious discomfort if it wasn’t for the fact that Hank was staring at him with the same judgmental scrutiny.

“Let me get this right...this guy is called _Markus_ —like the protagonist of your novel—, he’s black—”

“Technically, I’m biracial,” Markus corrected almost meekly.

“—like the protagonist of your novel—, he’s got weird eyes—like, you get the point—and he also happens to have some kind of activist mindset,” Hank summed up at least some of the things he had just learnt and his frown deepened. “And you’re trying to tell me this is all just a big ol’ coincidence. You definitely didn’t have a secret boyfriend for the past three years and used him as the model for the protagonist of your novel.”

Connor could see how this sounded incredibly unlikely and bordering on creepy, thinking about it like this, but what was he supposed to do about it? At least they had somehow managed to find Kamski to figure out how Markus would even fit into this world and the sorcerer had actually provided Markus with some sort of identity, conjuring up a legal ID so the other man officially existed in this universe.

* * *

“Markus Williams?? Why can’t I keep my own last name?” Markus scrunched up his nose while flipping the ID between his fingers, clearly not quite happy about the fact that he was apparently the owner of a brand new last name now.

“So either of you will be thought of as even crazier? You do realise that you’re literally the character from a book that came to life?  If you keep your full name on top of every other similarity with the book Markus, it’ll either seem like Connor didn’t even try to conceal that he was writing about a real person or you would look like the creepiest stalker fan in the history of ever who even changed his name to become a character from a novel. Have fun explaining the parallels as it is. I at least wanted to try to reduce the damage by a percentage.”

Connor blinked and glanced at Markus, shrugging because for once the sorcerer actually had a point. It would be quite odd if Markus had exactly the same name as the book character. And he figured there were worse things than having to get used to a new last name.

“And why Williams? You could have at least used a less...ordinary name.”

“Because Manfred is such a rare name?” Kamski deadpanned, thoroughly unimpressed as he stared back at Markus. “At least we kept the two-first-names thing.”

The young author definitely didn’t snort at that stupid comment. Markus still poked him in the ribs with his elbow in retaliation.

“Also, this last name does have a reason. I allowed myself an inside joke that probably only I get because few people are capable of interdimensional travel,” the sorcerer added with a grin and Connor hated that he felt inclined to ask what that meant. He really didn’t want to fuel the other man’s obvious need for attention.

“In another dimension,” Kamski started unprompted, leaning back in his chair in a by now familiar dramatic fashion, “your face has a completely different name. I mean, sure, you’re still some sort of activist and goody-two-shoes, too righteous for this foul planet, but you’re an actor. Well, a former teacher, actually. It’s quite amusing.”

Markus frowned at that and tilted his head, clearly trying to figure out if this was supposed to be a joke or not. Connor had the feeling it wasn’t a joke.

“This one is married to a woman there and they’re disgustingly cute. They even have a cat with a strange name. And you were married and have two kids,” the sorcerer added and seemed delighted by the other men’s frowny reactions.

“So, we’re both in the same universe there?” Markus inquired even though there were probably so many more questions swirling around in his gorgeous head. Connor knew it was the case in his own mind but he decided not to ask any of them because it would only get more confusing and unsettling the more he knew about this other version of himself.

“You’re in the same universe here as well. Your universe is, in a way, part of this one,” Kamski said with a shrug as if that was obvious and Connor rolled his eyes. This man would surely never change his exhausting attitude and the young author hoped this would be their last meeting with Kamski.

* * *

“At least you don’t have the same last name as well, that would be the cherry on top of a very creepy cake,” Hank muttered and Connor felt Markus’ narrowed eyes on him, almost daring him to make some noise of amusement. The young author barely managed not to snort but it was a hard battle.

“I know it seems really weird but it’s really just a coincidence and it’s not like I can turn into a wolf,” Markus offered with a lopsided smile while nervously tapping his fingertips against his cup of coffee that was mostly empty by now. “Plus we honestly only met each other about two months ago.”

“Almost three,” Connor added and grinned at his lover, nudging his knee against Markus’ thigh underneath the table when the other man rolled his eyes at him.

“You’re disgusting,” his manager huffed in good-natured annoyance and he took a big gulp of his own coffee, emptying the rest of the content in one go. “I’ve gotta go now. Thanks again for agreeing to take care of Sumo.”

Connor made a dismissive gesture and he loved dogs, plus he couldn’t possibly say no since Hank wanted to drive up to Montreal where his ex-wife lived so he could spend Christmas and New Years with his son who was sadly allergic to all kinds of animals, dogs included.

Hank smiled briefly, clapping his hand on Connor’s shoulder and then did the same to Markus but a little rougher as if he was trying to send a silent message.

“See you in the new year,” Hank said and with that, he pulled up the collar of his coat and headed out into the snowy city, leaving a napping Saint Bernard in the care of the two young men that both couldn't help but chuckle at this odd encounter.

“He’s quite the character,” Markus laughed but it was obvious that he had instantly liked Hank and Connor couldn’t help but feel happy about that since his manager was not just that, he was also a quite close friend and almost like a father-figure to him. It had been important to him for those two to get along so when Hank had asked him to meet, the young author had decided to drag Markus along.

“That he is,” the young author agreed with a smile and glanced down to Sumo, reaching out to gently pat the big dog’s fluffy head. The gesture earned him a soft huff by the animal but Sumo didn’t even bother to raise his head, simply continuing his nap and clearly not even minding the fact that his owner had left without him.

“Also, now I actually get Kamski’s reasoning behind giving me a different last name. It would have been awkward to explain even more similarities to your book character,” Markus added with a grin and reached for his mug, taking the last sip of his drink before leaning back in his chair. His heterochromatic eyes flickered to Sumo before training back on Connor, his whole expression fond and soft.

The young author felt like squirming under the warm attention but his lips tugged up into a smile and he blinked slowly when the other mean leant in to brush their mouths together, neither of them minding that they were in the middle of a coffee shop and their innocent affection was on display for everyone around.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Markus prompted after another sweet kiss that lingered for a moment longer than the first one and Connor rather felt like curling his hand around the nape of the other’s neck and pull him back in, though this probably wasn’t the place to turn this into a make-out session.

The young author sighed heavily but got up from his chair nonetheless, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair and wrapping his scarf around his neck after slipping into the said coat. He watched Markus mirror his actions and only then bent down to snatch up Sumo’s leash, the dog finally raising his head, yawning and stretching lazily before slowly getting to his feet as well. “Come on, big guy, you can continue your nap when we’re home.”

The feeling of Markus’ warm hand wrapping around his, their fingers slotting together as if they were meant to be for each other, caused Connor’s heart to hammer away against his ribs and it seemed like he would never quite get used to having all of this—having this gorgeous, sweet man by his side, allowed to call Markus his boyfriend and go home with him. Well, one of their homes, since Markus had his own ridiculously fancy apartment by now but they still spend more time in either of their homes together rather than being apart.

*******

“It’s crooked,” Connor pointed out and his lips twitched in amusement when he received an annoyed huff in return before Markus tried to adjust the position of the tree he was currently setting up in his spacious living room. The young author was lazily sprawled out on the big couch, Sumo napping on the soft carpet at his feet, and sipped a glass of red wine.

“You said that the last ten times as well.”

“Because it’s true and it was eight times, not ten, don’t be dramatic,” Connor replied and laughed when Markus regarded him with a blank stare before going back to nudging the tree around until he finally gave up and fastened the stand, stepping back to take a look at his work. “It’s still leaning a little to the right.”

“I think it’s perfectly straight, maybe you need new glasses,” the other man replied dryly and nodded a little after regarding the tree for a moment longer, clearly satisfied of the outcome and not willing to move the tree around even more.

“Rude,” Connor muttered but his lips twitched into a smirk when Markus glanced at him and then slowly walked up to the couch. His cheeks were a little pink from his struggle with the tree and there were a few needles of said plant clinging to the front of his sweater. Connor was tempted to reach out and tug the needled from the soft material but before he could do so, Markus suddenly stole his glass and drank the rest of his wine in one go.

“That was the last of it, how dare you!” The young author complained, watching as Markus put the glass down onto the table and then his heart skipped a beat when the other man simply crawled on top of him, nudging his legs apart to settle in between them and pushing Connor to lie on his back.

“There’s another bottle in the kitchen, as you very well know, but that can wait.”

“Yeah, I know, the tree has to be decorated first and that probably won’t work too well while being drunk,” Connor sighed dramatically and shuddered when he felt Markus’ slightly rough, warm hands pushing underneath his own sweater. He barely resisted the urge to arche his back and press up into the contact but his traitorous heart still skipped a beat and he absently licked his lips, not missing how Markus’ heterochromatic eyes tracked the movement.

“That will have to wait because I deserve a break after carrying the tree upstairs _and_ putting up with you bossing me around while setting the thing up.”

Connor huffed and he would deny that he had been bossing Markus around but he supposed that was exactly what he had been doing. It had been quite the sight, though, Markus fighting to get the tree upright and grumbling about the young author’s instructions that were mostly teasing and unnecessary.

“I’d never boss you around,” Connor replied innocently, batting his eyelashes at his boyfriend while settling his hands on the other man’s hips, only to have his hands pushed away and pinned to the couch on either side of his head.

“Of course not. And I’d never boss you around either,” Markus basically chirped and dragged Connor’s hands above his head so he could wrap one hand around both wrists, keeping the young author mostly incapacitated. To say that Connor didn’t enjoy being manhandled and pinned down like this would be a blatant lie.

“I know, you’re way too sweet and soft for that,” he teased and then yelped when Markus leant down to bite down on the side of his neck—not hard enough to actually hurt or do any damage but it definitely took Connor by surprise and sent a warm shiver down his spine, straight to his crotch.

“Oh, I’ll show you how _sweet_ I am,” Markus basically growled and that really shouldn’t be so incredibly hot but it reminded Connor of the fact that the other man had been a shapeshifter before coming to his world. Just because the other had lost his heightened senses didn’t mean he had also lost all behaviour patterns of his animal side as well. They were just more subtle.

Connor shuddered when the other man dragged his nose against his neck, tongue flicking over the young author’s pulse point before blunt teeth scraped against the sensitive skin. He absently remembered that Sumo was right next to the couch but couldn’t really bring himself to point it out to Markus, especially because the other man started sucking a bruise into his pale skin and Connor lost his train of thought in the blink of an eye, shuddering against his lover.

 

They didn’t get around to decorating the tree before the next morning and Markus only rolled his eyes fondly when Connor sprawled out on the couch with a cup of steaming hot cocoa in hand, giving him directions on how to drape the fairy lights around the tree to make it look nice. Sure, the young author could help and he planned on doing so for the other decorations but for now, he was fully content to watch his boyfriend who had decided to be only wearing a low-hanging pair of sweatpants so who could blame him for wanting to enjoy the view?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how much longer this story will go, it's probably going to be over soon but we will see...
> 
> Also: Happy Holidays to all of you and thank you for sticking around for this long and taking the time to leave kudos and/or comment ♥


	24. Drunk in Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, this is the last chapter because I don't really know what more to add and I think you don't need to be completely buried in fluff *laughs*

“You’re being overdramatic. It’s probably just sprained,” Connor huffed and wriggled a little to free himself but Markus stubbornly kept on carrying him to one of the benches to plonk him down on.

“I honestly don’t care,” the other man replied with an almost pouty expression and he crouched down in front of the bench, reaching for the laces of Connor’s ice-skates since they had decided to go to the nearby ice-rink for the last day of the year and of course the young author had managed to twist his ankle at the third time of falling onto the ice so Markus had simply scooped him up as if he weighed nothing. Connor was pretty sure a few women had actually _cooed_ at the sight of Markus carrying him off the ice and his cheeks still felt a little warm from all that unwanted attention.

“I’m fine,” he muttered while he watched Markus undoing the laces and oh so carefully slipping off the ice-skate from Connor’s right foot, sending an uncomfortable twinge through it. Of course, Markus didn’t miss that reaction and mumbled an apology while nudging up the leg of Connor’s pants, then carefully tugging down the thick sock to reveal the pale, slightly swollen skin of the young author’s ankle.

“How bad is the pain?” The other man asked, cool fingertips brushing against Connor’s heated skin and applying careful pressure to get a sense for the injury.

“Not that bad. It’s bearable. Though walking will be admittedly difficult,” the young author relented and it definitely hurt. Markus’ touch was surprisingly soothing, though, and if it wasn’t for all the spectators earlier he also wouldn’t have minded the carrying part as much. Or at all. It was actually pretty sexy how easily Markus was able to hoist him up and carry him around. Not that this was the first time in the past few days that Connor had been allowed to witness that fact first hand…

“It doesn’t seem too bad but maybe we should get you to a doctor just in case.”

“Every doctor’s office will be closed by now and I refuse to go to an overstuffed ER with something like a sprained ankle. I’m sure it’ll be fine and if it does get worse, I’ll make an appointment the day after tomorrow,” Connor said with a sigh and while he definitely didn’t want to visit a doctor or even the hospital, he honestly didn’t feel like it was necessary in this case anyway. A lot of rest would surely suffice. He couldn’t imagine a doctor would tell him any different.

Markus squinted at him, clearly trying to figure out if Connor was honest or just downplaying his injury but then his shoulders slumped a little and he tugged the young author’s sock and pant-leg back in their rightful place. “Alright. But you’ll stay at my place and will have to deal with me carrying you.”

Connor rolled his eyes because, seriously, his boyfriend was being way too dramatic in a ridiculously adorable way and he felt unable to say no to the pleading heterochromatic eyes and poutingly jutted out bottom lip. A grown man shouldn’t be this adorable.

“Yeah, sure. If you feel that strong a need to embarrass me,” the young author sighed with his own proclivity to being overly dramatic and then rolled his eyes fondly when Markus stretched from his kneeling position to brush a feathery kiss against his lips.

“I think it would be more awkward to be hobbling through the city with a sprained ankle and in even more pain,” Markus pointed out with a teasing grin and rested his hands on top of Connor’s thighs to push himself up onto his feet after he had also taken off Connor’s second skate, barely even wobbling despite still wearing his own ice-skates. Markus playfully tugged his lover’s beanie down over his eyes and announced he would go hand back the borrowed ice-skates and get their shoes.

He grabbed Connor’s ice-skates and flashed a blinding smile before walking off to exchange the ice-skates for their actual shoes and the young author leant back with a sigh. It was just his luck to sprain his ankle on the very last day of the year but at least he had Markus to distract him and keep him company instead of having to spend New Year’s all by himself. It definitely made the injury seem a lot less annoying plus Connor was kind of looking forward to Markus surely fuzzing over him for at least the rest of the day.

*******

“You think Kamski will ever show up again?” Connor wondered when they were sprawled out on the couch, his feet comfortably resting in Markus’ lap who was gently pressing a cooling pack to his still swollen ankle. The other man glanced at him with a slight frown.

“I sure hope not. Why?”

“I don’t know. I was just wondering what if he does and decides to send you back,” the young author admitted after a beat of silence, hiding a lopsided smile behind the rim of his mug, taking a sip of his hot cocoa with Baileys and whipped cream. He didn’t know why that thought had suddenly popped up in his mind, especially since Kamski was the one telling them he never wanted to see them again after their last brief encounter. The sorcerer was clearly done with this game and looking for a new one to play that apparently didn’t include them. Hopefully.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’ll beat his ass if he dares to send me back,” Markus replied and while he was strictly against physical violence, he didn’t seem to be joking about this matter. “And I won’t change my mind and would want to go back either. Sure, I miss my friends and hope everyone is alright but I am where I want to be.”

Markus smiled at him, his heterochromatic eyes crinkling at the corners, lighting up his whole face. Connor’s heart skipped a beat at the sight and squeezed almost painfully in his chest.

He didn’t even know Markus for that long and they had only been a couple for a short amount of time now but he was already so gone on the man, irrevocably in love. It should probably be scary but Connor had already passed that point and all he could do was marvel at the fact that he was actually allowed to call this gorgeous man his boyfriend.

“Now what’s up with that expression?” Markus interrupted his thoughts with unhidden amusement, softly tapping his fingertips against the skin above Connor’s swollen ankle to get his attention.

The young author blinked and seriously felt his cheeks heat up, averting his gaze that had certainly been glued to Markus’ face the whole time. He took a sip of his drink again, trying to gain some more time to come with an explanation that didn’t include his very sappy feeling for the other man.

“Connor.” Another gentle tap against his skin, followed by slightly rough fingertips trailing up his shin, slipping underneath the leg of Connor’s sweatpants until they reached his knee. The young author shuddered when Markus’ fingernails dragged against his skin on the way back down and rolled his eyes at the other’s huff of laughter.

“Nothing. I was just thinking.”

“While staring at my face,” Markus added, not even posing it as a question and his smirk grew a little wider while his heterochromatic eyes blinked innocently at his boyfriend.

“Your face just happened to be in my line of sight. It was completely unrelated,” Connor muttered and his lover’s expression alone already told him that he didn’t sound the least bit believable.

“Oh, so you were thinking about someone or something else with such a smitten expression? You even blushed,” the other man pointed out with a chuckle and raised his hand from Connor’s leg to drag his fingertips against the young author’s cheek to make him even more aware of the heat spreading from his cheekbones all the way to his ears and neck, even more now that he had been called out.

“I’m not blushing,” he muttered uselessly, glowering at Markus who only seemed all the more amused by his stubbornness.

The other man cupped Connor’s face with his hand now, thumb brushing over his cheekbone before he tilted the young author’s head up a little to lean over and brush a kiss against his mouth. Connor felt his eyelids flutter and the slight tension immediately melted out of his body.

“Come on, tell me what you were thinking about,” Markus whispered into the kiss and Connor felt his boyfriend’s soft lips curving up into a smile. “I sure hope it was me. I’d love to be the reason you were wearing such an expression.”

God, this man was too much.

“Maybe…” The young author mumbled and opened his eyes again, glancing sheepishly back at his boyfriend and he couldn’t believe that Markus actually managed to make him act this shy. He wasn’t shy! This was ridiculous. But his heart was beating in his throat, cheeks warm and palms a little sweaty. The fact that they were steering right for him confessing his feelings for the other man was unexpectedly nerve-wracking but looking at this gorgeous face and the open adoration in Markus’ eyes made him realise that he definitely wasn’t in this by himself.

“Pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

There it was.

Markus blinked at him before his expression morphed into that of pure happiness and Connor felt like the other’s smile would one day manage to give him a heart-attack or blind him with its intensity.

“I’m glad to hear that because I’m pretty sure I feel the same,” the other man replied easily and brushed the tip of his nose against Connor’s before brushing another kiss to his mouth. “Not just pretty sure, actually. I love you, for sure.”

Connor barely even registered the slight pain in his ankle when he simply wrapped his arms around his lover’s neck and dragged Markus down on top of him at a rather awkward angle but he honestly didn’t care about that right now. All he cared about was kissing the other’s goofy smile and pressing up against his warm body to the point where he was able to feel Markus’ heartbeat that was hammering just as quickly as his own.

“I love you too.”

His reply was barely audible between kisses but Markus’ smile told him that the other had caught it anyway. Their kiss deepened rather quickly, lips parting and tongue tangling together in a heated dance and they were only interrupted when Markus shifted his position and Connor did feel the twinge of pain from his stupid sprained ankle.

“You okay?” Markus asked worriedly and disentangled himself a little from his boyfriend, carefully rearranging their limps to place Connor’s hurt ankle out of the way and on top of a pillow to keep it a little elevated.

“I would be if you kept kissing me,” the young author pouted and then laughed when Markus quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Excuse me for being mindful of your injury,” Markus huffed but he was clearly amused and on board with more kissing since he settled between Connor’s spread legs and stretched out on top of him, dragging the tip of his nose against the lengths of the young author’s neck.

“Apology accepted.”

Markus growled playfully at that and softly bit into the sensitive skin of Connor’s neck, laughing when the other man yelped and shuddered in return.

*******

Connor groaned sleepily when he was nudged repeatedly, slowly blinking his eyes open when he heard Markus softly calling out his name.

“Wha’s going on?” He asked sleepily, stretching a little and shivering when the blanket slipped off his chest, revealing his bare skin to the slightly cool air of the open space that was Markus’ living-room.

“Come on, it’s almost midnight,” Markus said with a soft voice, nudging him again and since the young author didn’t really budge, he simply pushed his arms underneath his lover’s body to hoist him up into his arms. Connor yelped softly and automatically slung his arms around the nape of his lover’s neck, pouting sleepily at the other man.

“I would have been fine to stay on the couch, you know,” he mumbled around a yawn, pressing his face against Markus’ warm neck when the other simply plopped down in front of the huge window pane, only now realising that Markus had moved the big, fluffy rug from the fireplace over to the window so they could sit there and watch the fireworks.

“I know but the view from here is better,” Markus replied easily, draping the blanket a little more around Connor before grabbing another one to wrap it around his own shoulders so neither of them would be cold. “Plus, I like having you in my lap.”

The young author chuckled when Markus nuzzled into his neck, kissing the spot where it met his shoulder and nibbling on it playfully. A sigh fanned warm breath over Connor’s skin, leaving him with goosebumps and sending a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t deny that he liked this better than being on the couch as well, snuggled up in Markus' arms and surrounded by the other’s familiar warmth.

Connor tilted his head upwards to brush their lips together, placing a hand against the side of Markus’ neck and sighing happily, when suddenly the world outside burst into colours and loud bangs.

“Happy New Year,” Markus mumbled into the kiss but didn’t give Connor a chance to reciprocate the words because he simply kissed the other man again, slipping his tongue into the author’s warm mouth and humming happily.

“I love you,” Connor breathed when he finally got the chance to speak again, licking his kiss-swollen lips and smiling brightly at the other man, “and Happy New Year to you too.”

Markus grinned back at him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Connor’s nose, then his cheekbone and cheek, followed by his chin and then his bottom lip. “I love you too. So much.”

Already, the young author felt like he’d never be able to get enough of hearing these words, his heart beating happily against his ribs.

He completely forgot about the fireworks outside, getting lost in the much prettier colours of his boyfriend's heterochromatic eyes and the light smatter of freckles all over Markus’ nose and cheeks. His fingertips trailed from the side of the other man’s neck to his face, following said freckles across the soft skin and smiling when Markus’ eyelids fluttered shut trustingly. Connor brushed the pad of his thumb over the full, dark lashes fanning over his lover’s bronze skin and it seemed so unreal that a person could be this beautiful. Or maybe Connor was just biased.

The fact was, Markus had successfully conquered his heart and, at this point, Connor wouldn’t want to have it any other way. It might have been terrifying at first, especially when the other man was still just a fictional character, but now that Markus was in his world and apparently he was here to stay because Kamski had lost interest in their little story, it had been surprisingly easy to just fall into a rhythm together. The young author had gotten used to Markus’ presence within a few short days or even hours and now he couldn’t imagine how life had been before.

This also showed Connor why the whole thing with Donovan had been bound to fail because he had lost his heart to someone else long before he had dared to admit it to himself. There had never really been a choice and the young author wondered if this was somewhat part of Kamski’s whole game but, really, there was probably no way the whacky sorcerer had planned for them to end up together. It had been nothing but a happy coincidence for them and maybe they had messed up the universe some more by dragging Markus out of his fictional universe and into the real world but Connor doubted it would make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the ending is somewhat satisfiable.
> 
> Thank you so very much to everyone who took the time to read, leave kudos and/or comment ♥ You're all amazing and helped me bring up the motivation to get to the end of this story :)
> 
> Hopefully, you enjoyed the ride and we will surely see (read) each other in another story.


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